


to be vulnerable

by prettyboy_bucky



Category: The Walking Dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 118,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboy_bucky/pseuds/prettyboy_bucky





	1. Chapter 1

"Ugh, this page is fucking killing me," Michonne whines over Skype.

Daryl smiles and sits back, looking over the page he's just pencilled, flexing the fingers of his drawing hand. "That bad?" he asks.

Michonne huffs dramatically. "I never have this kind of hassle when I colour your pages, Dixon. Honestly, Espinosa is a goddamn sadist and I'm her masochist, except I'm totally not getting off on this."

Michonne is working as a colourist on the comic book series Daryl is currently drawing and a limited series with Rosita Espinosa, probably the most anal artist Daryl has ever met, and he's pretty anal about his own work.

Daryl has been working as a full-time comic artist for two years now, after about three years of working part-time in a supermarket and drawing his ass off the rest of the time, finally getting a chance to do some fill-in pages for a small comic publisher and working on a million other projects. He's been working on his first big series for the last four months with Michonne. He still has to pinch himself now and again to remind himself that he's doing what he always dreamed about for a living.

Daryl was reluctant to talk to Michonne Grimes when they first started working together nearly two years ago on a terrible four issue series; not because he didn't like her, but because he was too damn shy and she had a reputation for being far too cool. He had managed to stave her off with emails for as long as possible until she demanded a Skype conversation to talk about another project they'd been working on. Much to Daryl's surprise, they had hit it off straight away, conversations coming easy and an online friendship had soon struck up. Michonne is hilarious and blunt and it didn't take her long to figure him out and decide that they were a good working team as well as friends. He had finally met her face to face at a comic con they were both guests at and she had batted away his out-stretched hand and pulled him into a hug so hard, Daryl had bitten his tongue.

Daryl and Michonne talk a lot over Skype while they work; being a freelance comic book artist is a great job but can get kind of cabin fever-inducing. Half the time they're online, they barely even talk, just work and occasionally remember that the other is there at the other end of the line, Michonne often piping in with insults about his music tastes and Daryl telling her to fuck off, but he notices that she always turns off whatever she is listening to and lets Daryl play his own stuff.

Daryl lives alone so Skyping and Facebook messaging (mainly with Michonne and his editor, Spencer,) are his main source of human contact given his heavy workload, which is pretty damn sad. Mrs Nesbit, the old lady who lives on the first floor that Daryl sometimes picks up groceries for, doesn't count as she's constantly trying to set him up with her granddaughter, some Harvard student called Peggy, and every conversation he has with her always seems to steer towards that awkward subject.

"Well, the pages you'll get off of me this week are pretty simple. There's like one whole double-page spread that's just a snowfield," he replies, considering a panel.

He can hear the smile in Michonne's voice when she answers. "That's what I love about you, Daryl; your minimalism."

Daryl laughs and picks up his mechanical pencil again. He hears clattering in the background and Rick, Michonne's husband, shouts from their kitchen.

"Tell Daryl his artwork in issue 3 gave me a boner."

"Rick says you gave him a boner," Michonne says nonchalantly.

"Yeah, thanks Rick," Daryl shouts back.

There's some shuffling on the other end and Rick's voice, louder, at Michonne's desk. "Honestly dude, that issue was like AMAZING. You are one talented son of a bitch."

Daryl grins and rubs a hand on the back of his neck, "Well, it was okay but I still need to work on my - "

Rick and Michonne groan together. "Dixon, for fuck's sake - take a goddamn compliment," Rick says. "Just say, "Thanks Rick." Say it."

Daryl sighs and smiles. "Thanks Rick. Thank you."

"Better. Stop being so modest, you're making the rest of us assholes look bad."

There's a beat of silence and then Rick gives a laugh. "Daryl, what the fuck are you listening to? It sounds like a bad 80s action film."

Michonne groans. "It's that Retro New Wave junk he's obsessed with."

"Hey," Daryl says mock defensively, "Perturbator and Power Glove are fucking geniuses, so you can both go and shove it." Michonne and Rick snort in unison, one of the many weird symbiotic things they do that freaks Daryl out.

"You just like anything that sounds like old videogame music, you uber-nerd," Michonne says but not unkindly.

"Well, on that note," says Rick and Daryl hears him kiss Michonne. "See you later, gorgeous. You too, Michonne."

Michonne tuts and Daryl laughs. He hears her apartment door slam shut.

"Where's Rick off to at 9pm on a Monday night?" Daryl asks, erasing a line that's a bit too wonky for his liking.

"Some bro thing at a sports bar. Guys from his archery club. He'll come home all boozy and handsy, I guarantee it. But hey, I'll take any action I can get."

Daryl giggles. There's a moment of comfortable silence as they both work, listening to Daryl's music, and then Michonne says, way too casually, "So speaking of action - "

Daryl groans and makes a face, aware that Michonne can't see it but making one anyway. "No, no we weren't speaking of action."

"Oh come on, Daryl! Just tell me you've got someone interested, or have a date any time in the next century..."

Daryl sighs and sits back, dropping his pencil. "No, it's all very quiet. No-one on...any horizon," he says softly and maybe a bit sadder than he'd intended.

He hears Michonne give a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I just want to know that some hot guy is lusting over you in some manner."

Daryl takes off his glasses and puts them on his desk, then laces his hands behind his head and stares up at his ceiling. "No, you didn't make me feel bad. It's my own fault. I've been using deadlines as an excuse to not do anything in...that department. I just...it's hard. I'm not very good at it."

"An introvert's life doesn't have to be a lonely one," Michonne says. "Why not try speed-dating again? You met that Dwight guy through one of those things, right?"

Daryl makes a noise. "Yeah, but Dwight was...he was nice and all but we didn't have anything in common really, and I think he was looking for someone a bit more...less terrified. And not such a loser."

"Daryl, you're way too hard on yourself." When Daryl starts to protest Michonne just gets louder and talks quicker. "You're an awesome guy; you're really funny, incredibly sweet and decent, stupidly talented and you're hot, you are. I'm starting to worry that Rick wants to have sex with you because he's always saying how hot you look when there are any photos of you at a comic con online..."

Daryl barks out a laugh. "Well, if you guys ever get divorced then I guess I have that option."

Michonne laughs too, but then her voice softens again. "Just give yourself some credit, Dixon. People think a lot of you. You just need to start thinking a lot more of yourself."

Daryl swallows the lump rising in his throat. "Thanks Michonne", he says quietly. "It'll happen when it happens. I'm just not one for...casual stuff."

"You are so old-fashioned," she replies, but he can hear the fondness in her voice.

He folds his arms on his desk and rests his head on his arms. "I didn't want this conversation to end with me in self-pity mode again. I've done way too much of that lately."

"We're all allowed to wallow a bit. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, my friend Lori saw that picture of us at Insight-Con and practically blew her lady-load. She wouldn't stop asking about you. So even if YOU don't think you're sexy, the ladies do."

Daryl gives a small laugh. "I'm flattered but unless she's got a huge cock, I'm not really interested."

Michonne shrieks and gives a loud cackling laugh. Daryl never says stuff like that and she loves being shocked by anything dirty he says. It doesn't happen a lot.

"Holy shit, Daryl!" she chokes out between laughs and Daryl laughs with her for a few minutes, always pulled in by Michonne's infectious giggles.

"Okay, well I guess this is as good a time as any to hang up on you," Michonne says, sniffing and, Daryl can visualise it, wiping away a few laugh-tears. "I can't believe I get to see you again week after next at Ultron-Con; I can't frikkin' wait. God, such a lame name for a convention."

Daryl chuffs. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to 3 days of being teased by Negan."

Michonne groans. "Yep, I look forward to him sleazing over everyone."

"Well, as much as I hate to say it, without Stark I wouldn't be working on this series."

Michonne snorts. "Believe me, his writing isn't half as good without our artwork. Oh, which reminds me - make sure you send me anything you want printed for the con. Lori can get some stuff done on the sly where she works. You should totally reprint your Icons Of Horror posters."

"I think I will. Thanks, Michonne."

Daryl can hear Michonne shuffling some papers about on her end. "Well, I guess I'd better go and get my lady-parts prepped for Rick's drunken return later."

Daryl makes an over-exaggerated "ew" and Michonne laughs. There's a beat and then: "Oh my god, is that Bryan Ferry?"

"It's from the Legend soundtrack!" Daryl exclaims.

He's pretty sure Michonne is rolling her eyes. "Daryl, you have the worst taste in music, like ever."

Daryl snorts. "You and Rick like Nickelback so I think I pretty much win this round."

Michonne starts to protest and Daryl cuts of Skype before she can say anything else. He smiles and immediately taps out a message to her.

captain_Dixon: luv ya :)

Michonne replies almost immediately.

black_widow: you suck

***

Daryl stacks his completed pages and puts them aside on his desk, ready to start inking in the morning. Spencer has approved everything besides the 2 pages he pencilled today and he emails them over, knowing that Spencer will call him in the morning. He's looking forward to the inking because it means he can just zone out to music or Netflix. He likes not having to think so much, especially about himself. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He knew that Michonne would eventually ask him about his love life and was dreading yet another conversation about "getting out there" and all that shit. He knows he has to make an effort, but his shyness and lack of confidence always get the better of him.

He'd never been good with girls in high school, and then when he'd realised he actually liked boys, not much better with them either. Dwight had been the exception; he had been funny and handsome and had seemed to genuinely like Daryl, but Daryl had been so wound up about what to do, how to act, it had eventually put Dwight off and they'd parted ways. It had been amiable, but they hadn't been in touch since.

He switches off his laptop at about 12:30am and pads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. His one bed apartment is small but comfortable; a fortress of books, comics, DVDs, videogames and music. Someone to share it with would be nice, and he feels a pang in his chest. He glances at his reflection as he brushes; he honestly can't see any kind of hotness and thinks Michonne is talking out of her ass (again). He's a bit on the lean side, gets ill way too often (considering he's alone most of the time, what is he catching from who?), hair always doing the opposite of what he wants it to do. He has nice eyes, that's about it. They're bright blue and Dwight had been fond of staring into them as often as he could when they had been dating. He takes off his black-rimmed glasses as he brushes and squints at the mirror. He doesn't get any better looking.

Michonne had once sent him an email of cut-and-pasted tweets and forum comments by fan-girls about his eyes as a confidence booster and he'd grown redder and redder with each one. She had made the mistake of mentioning this to Glenn Rhee, another comic artist, at a convention last year and Negan had overheard and now sang "Behind Blue Eyes" to Daryl every time he saw him, crooning dramatically.

Daryl sighs. It has less to do with his looks, and more to do with him. He is way too shy, easy to embarrass and blushes beet red at the drop of a hat. He wears awkward like a bad shirt.

He wipes his mouth and turns off the light, carrying a glass of water to his bedroom. He sits on his bed and picks up his journal from the side-table, starting to make a list of all the things he needs to do before Ultron-Con, not including his book deadlines. He sighs and rests his head on his pillow; not much room left for a love-life anyway.

***

"Cut the check!" Spencer shouts loudly into Daryl's ear when he answers his phone the next morning, almost knocking over his mug of coffee.

"Hi Spencer," Daryl winces, but smiles with relief because that always means that Daryl has no amends to make - his pages are all approved.

"Awesome work as ever, dude," Spencer says. "Holy hell, page 18? I think a bit of piss came out when I saw it."

Daryl erupts into laughter and Spencer laughs along with him. "But seriously, Daryl - great job. You just seem to get better with each issue. I think you should be prepared to get a hell of a lot more interest in the next couple of months because this series is your ticket, I'm telling ya."

Daryl huffs. "Nah, it's only because Negan Stark is writing it; it's got nothing to do with my artwork."

"Bull. Shit. Just because the guy is writing a show for AMC doesn't make him Comic Book Jesus. This book would be nothing without you." There is warmth in Spencer's voice and Daryl smiles and remembers Rick's not-so-subtle advice from last night.

"Thanks Spencer. Michonne does a pretty good job of making my stuff look better though."

Spencer gives a little laugh. "Always the gentleman. I was thinking of offering Michonne a couple of covers to do, artwork and everything. What do you think?"

"I think she'd be totally into it," Daryl says. Michonne is an unbelievably good artist in her own right and rarely gets any other stuff to do besides colouring at the moment. Daryl knows she'll jump at the chance.

"Cool." He hears Spencer lean back in his squeaky chair. "So, how's things?"

Daryl walks into the kitchen and puts his mug in the sink. "Yeah, pretty good. Busy, but I can't complain about that. I'm really enjoying drawing this series."

"Well, we love having you on it. You're like one of the most modest artists we've ever had. I keep expecting you to suddenly go full-on diva on us but you don't."

Daryl laughs. "I don't think I'd even know how to be a diva."

"Don't do it, man. You're a nice guy who hits his deadlines and doesn't complain. It'll get you far."

Daryl gives a soft laugh, wishing he could apply his professional aspects to his personal life. "I hope so."

"Okay, I need to give Michonne a call and get her on these covers. Take it easy, Daryl."

"Thanks Spencer. Bye." Daryl hangs up and leans against the sink, suddenly a bit less motivated than he was to get started on his inks. Apart from crossing the street to pick up some food from the grocery store, he hasn't left his apartment in about four days. He glances out of the window. The sky is clear and blue, just a few wisps of cloud. He slips his sneakers on and grabs his messenger bag before he can let himself change his mind. It's new comic book day and he wasn't planning on going to the comic book store until tomorrow, but screw it. He flips his laptop on stand-by, noticing a message from Michonne before he does. Maybe he'll pick her up a gift from the comic book store, just for being awesome and the only really good friend he has.

Daryl locks his door and trots down the stairs. There are boxes in the second floor corridor and the door to 2E is open. Someone new must be moving in. He tries to have a look as he passes but doesn't see anyone. He collects his mail on the way out of the building and smiles as soon as he heads down the street; the day is warm and the fresh air feels good. His spirits lighten a bit. He'll let himself wallow later on.

***

It's 12:45pm by the time Daryl is back at his apartment building, a third of a way through a bag of strawberry Twizzlers. He picked up a ton of new comics and a Funko Pop Tyrion Lannister for Michonne, which she's been harping on about for ages. He knows she'll go ape when she sees it and gives himself a grin. He's heading up the stairs to the second floor when he hears a loud thump and someone shout: "Ah, shit! Watch out on the stairs, I dropped a fuckin' box!"

A cardboard box filled with stuff, most of it spraying out every which way, comes rolling down towards Daryl and he drops his bags instinctively to grab it. The comics slide down the steps and out of the plastic bag, fanning out in the lobby, followed by his messenger bag. Luckily, the rogue box doesn't have anything breakable in it: A few books (Daryl spies some Harlan Ellison), a pair of muddy sneakers, a bunch of towels and Tupperware tubs minus the lids.

Daryl starts to gather the loose items and put them back in, looking up as the box's owner descends the flight of steps towards him. A guy about the Spencere age as Daryl, longish hair falling in his face, wearing a black hoodie, jeans and weirdly, bare feet. He's holding his left arm awkwardly at his waist.

"I'm so sorry, man. I was trying to carry too many at once and it just went." The guy looks up at Daryl with huge grey-blue eyes, brow knitted in embarrassment.

Daryl shakes his head. "It's okay, nothing breakable in here." He sets the books on top of the towels.

"I don't give a crap about this stuff. Are you okay?" He glances down the steps. "Aw, shit. You dropped all of your bags."

Daryl laughs quietly, "Honestly, it's okay." He looks up at him again, and Daryl's breath catches slightly as the guy's brow un-knits and he gives a relieved grin. He's...wow. He's really cute. Daryl looks down quickly, hoping to God that he's not blushing and rests the box on a step. He's about to say something when the guy in the hoodie passes him on the stairs and starts to gather up Daryl's comics and his messenger bag.

"I'm really sorry," he says as he picks up the books. Daryl notices that he mainly uses his right hand to do it, the left arm still at his waist, a black glove covering his hand.

Daryl follows him down and picks up his messenger bag. "It's really okay, please don't worry about it." He catches a whiff of something like coconut from the guy as he hands Daryl his stuff.

"Cool - you like comics?" he asks, slightly more at ease. He tries to cross his right arm over his left a bit.

Daryl gives a little smile. "Yeah, I uh, I draw them. For my job. I mean I read them too, but I work on a couple of books. None of these though..." Babbling. Idiot. He gives himself a mental slap.

The guy raises an eyebrow, impressed. "Seriously? Like published?"

Daryl nods, instantly feeling like a hack for mentioning it and attempting to impress a perfect stranger. A very cute perfect stranger. "It's no big..." He kind of trails off.

"That's awesome! I can't draw for shit. You must be good if you earn a living from it." He relaxes a bit, resting his right hand on his hip and Daryl finally realises the guy's left arm is prosthetic.

He just looks down at the comics in his hands and says, "I'm...okay, I guess."

The guy gives a warm laugh. "Wow, so much confidence." He holds out his right hand to Daryl. "I just moved in to 2E. Well, almost." He indicates the box on the stairs. "I'm Jesus."

Daryl takes Jesus's hand and shakes it, hoping that his own palm isn't clammy and he doesn't feel like a wet fish. "Daryl. I live up in 3C." Jesus's hand is warm.

"Well, this wasn't the way I wanted to meet the neighbours but I'm glad it was you I dropped a box on and not some old lady or something. I don't think I could live with myself if I brained a senior citizen with my towels."

Daryl laughs softly. They head back up the stairs and Jesus grabs the box with his right hand and hauls it up under his arm. Daryl isn't sure whether to help him or not; he doesn't want to assume that Jesus needs the help, but also doesn't want to seem like a dick by not helping. They reach the landing and Daryl sees more cartons just outside Jesus's door.

He immediately picks one up, heavier than the one that fell down the stairs and turns to Jesus, not wanting to just waltz into his apartment.

Jesus gives him a grateful smile and Daryl feels relieved. "Thanks, man. I've been at this all morning and was slowly losing the will to live."

Daryl follows him into the apartment. It's pretty much the Spencere layout as his own place, but with a nicer couch and a green kitchen. He puts down the box with the others that have been moved in and goes back out into the hall to pick up another one. "No pEugenelem. It sucks moving in on your own; I did the Spencere."

Jesus kicks another box through the door into the small hallway. "Yeah, I don't have any friends here really. I was in Boston before this for a bit. I'm from Brooklyn originally, though."

Daryl brings in the last box and sets it down. "Yeah, me too. Never really left New York."

Jesus puts his right hand on his hip again and nods at Daryl. "Thanks so much, Daryl."

"No pEugenelem." He clears his throat awkwardly and indicates to the door. "I'll, uh, leave you to it." He shuffles to the door. Come on, you idiot, he hisses to himself, don't leave this hanging. Just go for it. Fucking talk to him. He turns when he gets to the door and flounders a bit.

"Um, if you need like, a cup of sugar or anything...," Yeah, smooth Daryl,"...I'm just upstairs. Or y' know, not sugar but if you want...to hang out?" He just about manages to stop himself wringing out his hands.

Jesus brightens a bit. "3C, right?"

Daryl hopes his smile isn't too obvious. "Yeah. I'll...see you." He exits, just managing to not walk into the door frame and pretty much runs upstairs and to his own apartment.

***

Michonne reacts as expected to the Tyrion Lannister toy, shrieking at the photo Daryl sends across.

"You are too awesome, Dixon," Michonne says and Daryl hears exaggerated kissing noises close to the microphone of her laptop.

"No tongue," Daryl says and Michonne giggles.

He finally managed to get started on inking a page after the whole Jesus thing, feeling a bit light-headed and flushed when he got inside the door of his own place. Whether Jesus would actually accept his invitation to hang out was another matter but Daryl just wanted to bask in the moment and feel proud that he'd actually done something. It's a small victory for him.

He hears Michonne coo approvingly as Depeche Mode comes on. They work in silence for a bit.

Daryl clears his throat. "So, um, I met this guy who moved in downstairs. Seems okay."

There's a beat of silence before Michonne clears her own throat and says, "So, um, that was so not smooth and you are terrible at hiding the fact that you are obviously interested in some guy who just moved in downstairs."

Daryl groans and Michonne gives a wicked cackle. "God, Daryl! So come on, who is he, is he cute, gimme."

Daryl huffs a sigh. "His name is Jesus - "

"Jesus?"

" - he's...uh...very cute - "

"Jesus?"

" - and he's got a - "

"His name is Jesus?"

"YES! JESUS! JESUS JESUS! It's pEugeneably a nickname, jeezuss!"

Michonne howls with laughter. "Calm down, Dixon! You'd better hope he didn't just hear you screaming his name like a maniac!"

Daryl groans louder and throws his pen down. Michonne has this whole ice maiden thing going on when they're at comic cons: She greets people with a smirk and raises a casual eyebrow at comments and pretty much has people wrapped around her little finger basking in how cool she is. Yet she's a complete goofball behind closed doors. He's heard her singing along to songs off-key and in as high a pitch as she can, while him and Rick scream with laughter. She was the one who decided that anytime Rick says "It would be my genuine pleasure," (which he says a lot) he has to eat a spoonful of garlic puree. Rick often says she's wasted on being an artist and should have gone into something involving espionage or mystery shopping instead.

"Michonne..."

"Okay, I'm cool. I am genuinely excited for you."

Daryl picks his fine-liner back up. "Nothing's even happened. I just helped him move like four boxes into his living room."

Michonne gasps. "You went into his apartment? Holy shit, this is moving too fast for me."

"Michonne!"

Michonne laughs. "Oh, come on! Dude, this is amazing. You have to ask him out."

"I don't even know him!"

"That's what asking someone out is for."

"I...uh...," Daryl hesitates.

"What? What?! Spit it out!"

"I told him he could borrow a cup of sugar...if he wanted."

Daryl turns down the volume on his laptop to drown out Michonne's laughing.

***

black_widow: Okay, I'm sorry to tease.

black_widow: Daryl

black_widow: Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve

captain_Dixon: what

black_widow: Honestly, I think you should just go for it. You're a total a catch.

captain_Dixon: I'm thinking about it

black_widow: I told Rick. He says you're too cute. He wants to eat you out with a spoon.

black_widow: eat you up with a spoon

captain_Dixon: You guys are gross

captain_Dixon: I'll let you know if anything happens

black_widow: You'd better!

***

Daryl has just finished washing up his dinner stuff at about 7:45pm when there's a knock at his front door. His stomach flips - he never gets visitors so it could only be one person - and a for a second he isn't sure what to do, dish-towel in one hand and a plate in the other. There's another knock and Daryl almost throws the plate down instead of the towel and hurries to the door, taking both with him.

Jesus is in the hall, still bare foot and in his black hoodie. He gives a little smile. "I hope your offer to hang out still stands because I don't need any sugar."

Daryl steps back. "No! I mean, yeah! Come on in. Sorry, I just finished dinner." Daryl holds the dish-towel and plate up as if by way of explaMichonneion.

Jesus walks in. "Damn, I knew I should have come up earlier." He stops short when he sees Daryl's DVD collection. "Holy crap. I don't think I've seen that many movies, let alone own that many."

Daryl closes the front door and gives a laugh. "Can you tell I don't get out much?"

"I don't either so I guess I've made the right friend." He stops again halfway over to the DVDs and points at Daryl's Wii U. "Do you have Mario Kart?"

"Totally. You want to play?" Daryl wonders how Jesus will use the controller with just one arm. He also wonders how he's managing to sound so calm and not blush every two seconds.

Jesus beams. "Oh, hell yes."

"Do you want a beer?" Daryl walks back to the kitchen and puts the plate and dish-cloth on the counter whilst slyly checking his shirt to make sure he didn't dribble any lasagne on it.

"Jeez, I kind of feel like I've just swaggered in here and decided I want to play with all of your stuff and drink your beer and have nothing to offer in return." Jesus is stood watching Daryl with both hands on his hips now, an amused grin on his face. Daryl hands him a beer - Jesus takes it with his right hand - and Daryl just shrugs.

"The company's good enough for me."

Jesus takes a swig of his beer and spots Daryl's desk. "Oh hey, yeah. Your comics. Can I see?"

Daryl rubs a hand through his hair, suddenly more self-conscious about showing Jesus his artwork than anything else. "Yeah, sure."

They walk over to Daryl's desk and he quickly glances at his laptop to make sure that his earlier message thread with Michonne isn't visible. Nope, Photoshop. Good.

Jesus looks down at Daryl's latest page in progress. "Wow, that is...amazing," he says softly. He puts his beer down on the book shelf far away from the artwork (Daryl kind of loves him for that) and scans the page.

Daryl reaches for his portfolio on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. He puts it on the desk, clearing a space. Daryl unzips it and then kind of flounders. "Um, this is most of my best stuff." He steps back and lets Jesus open it.

Jesus is silent as he flips the pages. There's a mixture of different work in the portfolio: Superhero pin-ups, original work, sequentials, a bit of graphic design (not Daryl's strong point.) He tries not to shift nervously as Jesus stops on one his Icons Of Horror pieces - the An American Werewolf In London poster. "This is amazing," Jesus breathes. He turns to Daryl, a mixture of admiration and you-said-you-were-good-but-not-this-good on his face. "You are really talented."

Daryl can feel his face getting hot and is about to do his usual protesting, but he stops himself, holding Jesus's gaze for as long as he can before caving and looking down.

"Thank you," he says quietly.

Jesus taps the poster. "The bit where he gets shot in the alleyway at the end always gets me. When he kind of recognises his girlfriend for a second."

Daryl nods. "Yeah, it's heartbreaking."

A notification bloops up on his laptop. Jesus closes Daryl's portfolio and retrieves his beer from the bookshelf. "You want me to start up the Wii while you get that?"

Daryl indicates the DVD shelf. "Cool. All the games are on the bottom left." He watches Jesus walk over and then pulls up Skype.

black_widow: Rick just ate chocolate with ketchup on it and I didn't even dare him to.

captain_Dixon: he's here in my living room right now

black_widow: WTF whats going on what

captain_Dixon: we'er gonna play mario kart i gotta go

black_widow: pt me on call so i can listen in

captain_Dixon: get bent

black_widow: don't put me on stand-by i swear

Daryl closes his laptop and heads over to the couch. Jesus is holding one of the controllers and Daryl can see that he can move the fingers on his prosthetic arm. He wants to ask about it but gets the feeling that it's something Jesus should bring up without a prompt.

Jesus points to a picture of Michonne and Daryl propped up on his 24 box set. It's from the first comic convention they met at. Michonne is draped casually across Daryl's shoulder while she strikes her "cool pose" - hip jutting out, pouting, red hair flung over one shoulder -while Daryl smiles crookedly, his hand on Michonne's waist. "Girlfriend?" Jesus asks.

Daryl huffs a laugh. "No, that's Michonne, She's a comic artist too. That's her husband Rick photo-bombing us in the background. They're kind of my best friends."

Jesus nods and Daryl tries not to dwell on whether Jesus might be gay. He's here because Daryl invited him and that's more than he could have hoped for.

***

It ends up being a great evening; they play Mario Kart for about four hours, drink beer and talk about crap. About a million races into the game, Jesus calls Daryl a punk for ramming him off of the Rainbow Road again. He gets his own back with a blue shell two races later though and howls with laughter as Daryl goes from 1st place to 6th and Jesus nabs 2nd place. Daryl calls him a jerk but can't stop laughing. Jesus puts his controller down and flexes his right hand.

"Oh man, I love this game so much." He glances at Daryl. "You realise it was a mistake to invite me over, right? You wont get rid of me now."

Daryl flashes him a grin. "Fine by me; it beats losing online all the time. I swear everyone who plays Mario Kart online does nothing but play Mario Kart online."

Daryl's phone vibrates and he reaches across the coffee table to grab it. It's a text.

MICHONNE: Are you two having sex yet?

He makes a noise in his throat and tosses the phone onto the floor.

Jesus raises an eyebrow. "PEugenelem?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Just Michonne being...Michonne."

The phone vibrates again and Daryl sighs and picks it back up.

RICK: Michonne says don't ignore her. Did you get some?

Jesus stands up. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Go for it," Daryl says and chuckles as Jesus wobbles a bit on his way there. He hears an "Ow," as Jesus body checks the bathroom door.

Daryl quickly texts Rick back.

DARYL: no, we're playing Mario Kart tell Michonne to stop thinking about me having sex its gross

Daryl gathers up the empty beer bottles and takes them into the kitchen. He leans against the sink for moment, happy and a little bit drunk. He hears Jesus coming out of the bathroom. He pokes his head out of the kitchen. "You want some water or something?"

Jesus walks over, both hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. "At the risk of losing any masculine credibility I may have built up during the course of the evening: Do you have any tea?" He makes a squinty face.

"I think," Daryl says, rooting through a cupboard, "I have some green tea somewhere. Is that okay?"

Jesus leans against the counter with a dopey smile. "Perfect."

Daryl finds the box of tea and fills the kettle. He drinks two glasses of water and leans against the fridge.

"So what do you do, like job wise?" he asks Jesus.

Jesus kind of frowns and looks down at his feet, which are dirty. "At the moment, nothing. I'm kind of between things."

Daryl hopes he hasn't said something wrong and Jesus looks up and must see it on his face because he gives a little smile and says, "It's no big thing."

Daryl nods and the kettle clicks. He pours the hot water into a mug and hands it to Jesus. "We should totally do this again."

"Yeah, that would be cool." Jesus goes and sits on one end of the couch. "I haven't done anything like this for ages. It's...nice."

Daryl flops down on the other end of the couch. "Yeah, I don't have guests 'round often."

"What about Michonne and Rick?" Jesus asks.

"They live in Milwaukee."

Jesus chuckles. "Ah."

"I see them at comic conventions which is cool. I kind of wish they lived closer. I pretty much talk to Michonne every day, though - she works from home too so we kind of keep each other company. Rick does some IT thing for a job. I forget what."

"They sound pretty cool."

Daryl smiles. "Yeah, they are."

There's a moment of silence and the Mario Kart title screen loops.

Jesus clears his throat. "Hey, uh, thanks again for earlier. Helping me with the boxes. I kind of...my arm gets kind of..." He glances at Daryl, unable to finish his sentence.

Daryl quirks up a corner of his mouth and gives a little shrug. "It was my genuine pleasure."

Jesus gives him a funny look, then his face splits into a huge smile and he laughs, deep and loud. "Who the hell says that?"

Daryl starts to laugh too. "I know, right?" he says which only makes Jesus laugh harder.

When they both calm down a bit, Daryl picks up the controllers and hands one to Jesus. "Come on, I'll thrash you one more time."

Jesus snorts. "Bring it."

***

It's after 2am when Jesus finally stands up and stretches. "I think I've outstayed my welcome long enough now. And beaten your ass into the ground shamelessly." He does a funny little body pop that makes Daryl giggle. He gets up too and walks with Jesus to the door.

"Yeah, I need to get up early and ink a bunch of stuff to send to Michonne tomorrow." He groans.

Jesus steps out into the hallway. He starts to walk backwards down the hall, hands in his hoodie pocket again. "Thanks again, Daryl. Seriously."

Daryl leans on the door frame. "Any time, man."

Jesus grins and disappears down the stairs, feet slapping on the wood floor.

Daryl shuts the door and puts on the latch. Then he turns off the Wii U and the living room lights and heads to his room, too tired to even bother brushing his teeth. He kicks his jeans off, throws his shirt over into the hamper and crawls into bed. He checks his phone: Nothing else from Michonne and Rick.

He sends them both a text.

DARYL: So, he just left

Less than 30 seconds pass before he gets two texts almost simultaneously. The bastards were actually waiting up for him.

MICHONNE: WHAT HAPPENED

RICK: Michonne has been imagining filthy things

DARYL: We played on the Wii and drank beer and that was it

MICHONNE: AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGG

RICK: So how was it?

Daryl pauses for a second and can't help the huge smile that spreads across his face.

DARYL: Really really good :)


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl wakes up with a hideous taste in his mouth and the unmistakable feeling of getting a sore throat. He groans. A sore throat usually leads to an ear infection too and he really can't be doing with that at the moment. He's always been the kind of person where a small case of not-feeling-well will escalate quickly into really-damn-sick and spent most of his high school years, when not being bullied, working extra hard to catch up on work he missed out on while having tonsillitis, gastroenteritis or the flu. He hopes that it's just a combieion of a late night and too much drinking and laughing. He thinks back to the previous evening and smiles to himself. He still doesn't know Jesus very well but Daryl already thinks he's kind of great. Okay, very great.

He heads into the kitchen and downs a glass of water before padding into the bathroom for a shower, coughing a bit along the way. Ugh, great timing. If he is coming down with something, he at least hopes it clears up before Ultron-Con. Being ill at a convention is the worst, especially since he'll most likely be drawing sketches all weekend, and Michonne would kill him if he gave whatever lurgy this is to her and Rick.

He stands under the hot water, grinning every time he remembers something funny from last night. Should he go and see Jesus later and invite him over again? Or will he turn up on his own like he did yesterday? Daryl doesn't want to seem too desperate but all he can think about is wanting to see Jesus again and hear him laugh. He rinses his hair and turns off the water. Coffee, emails, cough drops, work, then he'll think about Jesus.

Which is bullshit because he ends up thinking about him all morning regardless.

***

He's barely even sat down at his desk after booting up his laptop when a call comes through from Michonne over Skype.

Daryl sighs and braces himself as he answers.

"Good morni - "

"You are going to tell me EVERYTHING right now. I want every little detail, anything that happened that could be scrutinised as some form of attraction or double entendre, what he looks like, did you manage to touch him in any way, everything, right now." Michonne takes a breath. "Good morning."

Daryl laughs croakily and just puts on Working For The Weekend as loud as his laptop's volume will go, not caring if Hobo Guy from next door starts banging on the wall.

"Don't you dare try and drown me out with awesome 80s beats!" He can just about hear Michonne screeching over the music.

Daryl turns it down. "Okay, okay. Just give me a minute to get my shit sorted and I'll tell you everything."

"God, you sound like crap," Michonne says.

"Thanks. Yeah, I think I'm coming down with something, yet again." He gives a cough. Yuck, definitely getting more mucus-tastic.

Michonne whines impatiently. "Sorry you're feeling sick and all but hurry up and get on with it."

"Okay, fine," Daryl says as soon as he starts inking. He gives Michonne a breakdown of the evening. She interjects occasionally with squeals and a couple of "Oohs!" and Daryl ignores her when she asks him on a scale of one to ten, how much did he just want to start humping Jesus's leg.

"I don't know whether to go and see if he wants to hang out again. Is that a bit too desperate?" He coughs and makes a groan.

Michonne hums. "Maybe just wait and see for now? And maybe not with that cough; wouldn't be too sexy if you sprayed him with phlegm. I mean, he came over after you asked; chances are he'll come over again." Something drops on the floor at Michonne's end with a clatter and she curses. "I say wait it out."

Daryl makes a little whine. "I don't think I can wait. But I don't want to come across like some crazy stalker."

Michonne snorts out a laugh. "I don't know; I can totally imagine you giving yourself a homemade "Jesus" tattoo like Mark Wahlberg did in that shit film. What was it called? With Reese Witherspoon?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"He's like stalking this girl and carves her name into his chest. It's so bad, it's amazing. Dammit, now I need to find out what it was called." He can hear Michonne typing furiously.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna do that." Daryl reaches for a thicker nibbed pen. "Anyway, who cares about Mark Wahlberg; you're supposed to be helping me decide what to do."

Michonne clucks her tongue. "I did help; I said just wait it out. If you don't hear from him today, go and see him tomorrow. Or maybe even when you don't sound like you've been possessed by Pazuzu." A brief pause. "Fear! It was called Fear. Oh my god, I need it. I'm totally buying it right now." More tapping.

Daryl makes an annoyed noise.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic! You met him yesterday for fuck's sake. Nothing happens this quickly. It took Rick like two weeks to work up the courage to say hello to me and another week to ask me out, and even then all he actually managed to say was "Do you like Bratwurst?" and forgot to actually ask me out." A beat. "Order confirmed! Mark Wahlberg as a crazy stalker is mine to own."

"I'm sure Rick will be thrilled."

"I'll make him thrilled. So, come on; you haven't actually told me what this guy looks like."

Daryl takes a breath. "About our age, I think. Maybe a year or two older. A bit taller than me, not-quite shoulder length brown hair - "

"Long hair, eh?" Michonne makes a weird noise of approval.

" - yeah, long hair. Uh, huge grey-blue eyes, amazing smile, great laugh, really funny," Daryl finishes quickly.

Michonne chuckles. "Okay, that was a bit more than just his looks. Oh my, Daryl."

"Yes, oh my," he mutters. He pauses, not quite sure why. "Um, I think he's...his left arm is a prosthetic."

Silence on Michonne's end for a second. "Really?" she asks softly.

Daryl puts down his pen." Yeah, he was holding it kind of funny when we met and I think he was trying to hide it. But then he was using it when we played on the Wii U. Like, the fingers could move and stuff. I don't know if it's his whole arm, he had long sleeves on and he was wearing a glove."

"Shit. That's really...how do you think he lost it?" All humour has gone from her voice.

"I don't know. Car accident? Maybe he's military. I don't know, it didn't seem like the kind of thing you ask about after only knowing someone for a few hours. He mentioned it at one point but he seemed a bit uncomfortable."

"I guess if he wants to talk about he will. I mean, it sounds like he's already looking for a friend and I can't think of anyone better than you for the job. You tend to bring out the best in people."

Daryl shakes his head. How does she do that so effortlessly? Make him feel like he matters more than he does. "I'm not..."

Michonne cuts him off. "Rick will tell you the Spencere thing. And Glenn."

Daryl picks his pen back up, unsure of what to say. "So, uh...yeah. That's pretty much Jesus," he says quietly.

They work in silence for a bit, Michonne humming along to How To Destroy Angels.

"Well," Michonne suddenly says loudly, making Daryl jump, "in all of the crazy-with-a-kay excitement with you and your new love obsession, I totally forgot to tell you something awesome that happened. Guess what I got offered yesterday?"

"Some covers from Spencer, " Daryl says, trying to sound uninterested.

Michonne makes an indignant noise. "What the what? How the hell did you know?"

Daryl smiles. "I was talking to Spencer about a minute before he called you. He asked what I thought."

"I can't have just one little thing, can I! What did you say to him?"

"I said you'd jump at it. It's about time they gave you something other than colouring. You're the best artist I know."

Michonne grumbles. "If you're going to be so damn nice about it..."

"Congrats, Michonne. You're going to own those covers." He kind of makes a not-quite-cough without opening his mouth and ends up coughing again anyway. He's sounding worse by the minute.

"Thanks Daryl. Look, you sound terrible - go and get some medicine or something. I feel bad making you talk on here."

"Yeah, I've got some cough stuff somewhere. Man, I feel like shit."

Michonne puts on her business voice. "Okay, I'm hanging up now. Just go back to bed, get some rest, don't worry about work."

"But I need to get you these - "

"Daryl, we're two issues ahead and I can pull it out of the bag if I need to. Just...you sound horrible. Take a day off."

"But I really need - "

"Daryl. Day off."

Daryl mumbles something.

"Yes, Michonne - I will. You are beautiful and kind and wise - "

"Yes, I'll go back to bed!" Daryl says loudly, gurgling a bit at the end.

" - with the perkiest boobs of any woman I've ever - "

Daryl hangs up.

***

Daryl ends up working for another two and half hours. He knows he'll feel better at least having something done before he goes back to bed. He'd logged out of Skype to throw Michonne off of the scent but after about an hour of working, gets a text from her.

MICHONNE: You're not in bed, are you

DARYL: Not yet - just a bit longer

MICHONNE: I fucking knew it

DARYL: Because you're a witch

MICHONNE: If you don't go to bed now i'm cursing your entire bloodline

DARYL: I'd rather you used your hoo doo to make Jesus fall in love with me

MICHONNE: You can totally do that on your own

Daryl gives a little smile. He can never feel down about himself for long with Michonne around.

DARYL: I'll try

MICHONNE: OMG I just realised what Jesus almost rhymes with

***

Daryl emails the pages to Michonne when he's done and gets back into bed. His mood has deteriorated over the course of the morning: he's pissed off with his dumb-ass immune system for letting him down but even more pissed off because if Jesus does want to come over again, he won't be good for anything. He puts his glasses on the bedside table and rolls over. He can already feel his right ear starting to ache and whines pitifully to himself. Fuck it, he's feeling sorry for himself today.

He sleeps through until about 5:30pm, feeling even worse than he did when he went to bed. He drags himself to the bathroom and goes to the toilet. He looks in the mirror and tries to smooth down his hair which is completely stuck up on the left side of his head and then gives up when it just wont happen. His ear is killing him now and he knows that tomorrow is going to have to involve a trip to the doctor. He finds some Ibuprofen in the cupboard, coughing harshly, and takes three of them. He drinks cough syrup straight from the bottle.

He grabs a glass of water from the kitchen and then switches on the Wii U, resigning himself to a possibly sleepless night. He pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch and wraps himself up. He's just about to start Arkham Origins when his phone vibrates.

RICK: Michonne says you have consumption

DARYL: Feels like it

RICK: You okay?

DARYL: Not great. I'll be fine

RICK: If I was there, I'd be making you soup and mopping your brow

DARYL: :)

 

***

An hour later and Daryl is losing his temper big time. His head feels like it's about to explode and he cannot beat Deathstroke for the life of him.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" he shouts as Batman gets hit in the face yet again and he coughs painfully. Daryl's ten seconds away from throwing the controller through the TV and when Batman gets killed for the eighth time in a row, he finally shrieks in frustration and shouts "You fucking asshole!" at the screen, controller skittering across the coffee table, and then doubles over, coughing and retching. He sinks back onto the couch, chest burning, head pounding and switches on the TV instead, barely able to keep himself from kicking the Wii U as he does. He finds a marathon of River Monsters and zones out, wrapped up in his blanket on the couch like a blond, self-pitying burrito.

Two episodes into the show and he's getting quite into whoever-that-guy-is trying to find an electric eel in a big muddy pond when there are three sharp knocks at the door. Daryl bolts upright, his head spinning and stands up, steadying himself with a hand on the back of the couch. He's not sure he wants to answer the door in his current state, but chances are it's Jesus and Daryl wants to see him, even if he does look like a wreck.

He opens the door, but there's no-one there. His heart sinks but as he's about to close the door, he notices a thermos on the floor. There's a post-it note stuck to the top. Daryl picks it up and reads it:

Drink Me.

He glances down towards the stairs but there's no-one there. Heart thumping, he shuts the front door and takes the thermos into the kitchen, unscrewing the cap. He sniffs the golden liquid inside - smells like honey and lemon. He pours out a mug and takes a tentative sip. It's really good - sweet and sharp and his throat seems to appreciate it. He smiles at the note. It has to have been Jesus; Hobo Guy would sooner start banging on the wall at Daryl's coughing than make him a drink and Mrs Hernandez is as deaf as a post. Jesus must have come up earlier and heard him coughing through the door. His bad mood instantly fizzles out and he can't help the sense of giddy excitement building inside himself.

He takes the mug and the thermos back to the sofa and quickly taps out a text, sipping the honey and lemon.

DARYL: Okay, so something really cool just happened

A couple of minutes later his phone buzzes.

RICK: Is it cooler than watching Ghost Dad? Because that's what we're doing right now

DARYL: It's Jesus related

Less than twenty seconds pass before the next text comes through.

RICK: Ghost Dad is now paused. This had better be good

Daryl gives a summary of the last ten minutes.

RICK: It's Michonne - HOLY SHIT. I refuse to believe that he just had a bag of lemons in his kitchen which means he went out and bought you lemons WTF

DARYL: He might have had lemons

RICK: No-one just has lemons, nobody ever needs lemons, HE BOUGHT YOU LEMONS

DARYL: I don't want to read too much into this

RICK: This changes everything. when a man buys you lemons, it means something

DARYL: Can you stop saying lemons

RICK: Okay, phone taken away from Michonne. She's gotten herself over-excited

DARYL: Does it mean something when another man buys you lemons?

RICK: I wouldn't know. I bought a guy a watermelon once and nothing happened. Go to bed and go see the doctor tomorrow

DARYL: Now I don't know whether to buy him a new bag of lemons or not

RICK: FFS

An hour later, Daryl's phone buzzes.

RICK: Michonne says if they made rom-com about you and Jesus, it would be called The Lemon Effect

***

Daryl barely sleeps that night, the pain in his ear a constant dull thEugene. He's coughing less now though and he dozes fitfully on the couch, occasionally catching sight of the now-empty thermos and smiling to himself, the TV a low hum in the background, one show merging into the next throughout the night. When it starts to get light outside, he staggers to the bathroom and has a shower, standing dazed and exhausted under the spray.

He calls the doctor's office as soon as it opens and manages to get an appointment for 11:20am. He takes some more Ibuprofen and inks two comic panels before flopping down onto the couch again. He can't stop thinking about lemons.

He gets a text from Michonne.

MICHONNE: How are you this morning?

DARYL: Not great, didn't really sleep. Doctors in a bit

MICHONNE: Let me know when you get back

DARYL: Will do

At 10:15am, after an hour of agonising, he makes a decision and heads over to the bookcase behind his desk. He sits on the floor, waits for the dizziness to pass and grabs his portfolio from the bottom shelf. He flips through until he finds the An American Werewolf In London piece and pulls it out, sliding it carefully into one of the cardboard sleeves he made a ton of to mail out artwork to people. He wobbles over to the kitchen and washes Jesus's thermos (he's now hoping it's Jesus's) and sticks the post-it that was on the cap to his fridge. Michonne was right: Nothing happens this quickly, but if there's a chance something could happen, Daryl doesn't want to sit and wait like he always does. Jesus (maybe) went out of his way to do something nice for Daryl and that must mean...something, right?

Daryl steels himself as he puts on his sneakers and jacket and coughs harshly, taking a second by the door. He picks up the cardboard sleeve, his bag and the thermos and heads out of the door.

***

Daryl hesitates outside of Jesus's apartment, self-doubt creeping back in. He can hear the muffled drone of a TV on the other side and knocks on the door before he can stop himself. He hears foot steps and takes a deep breath. Jesus answers the door, still wearing the Spencere hoodie from the day before. Daryl catches that Spencere hint of coconut on him.

Jesus smiles, and Daryl's stomach flips. "Hey!" He seems genuinely happy to see Daryl. Daryl tries not to let himself get too excited.

Daryl goes to say hey, but ends up coughing instead, turning away from the door. He straightens back up after a minute and gives Jesus an embarrassed smile. Jesus's brow is furrowed in concern.

"Shit, are you okay?" Daryl tries not to look too long at those huge eyes.

He nods. "I'm going to the doctors. I get this a lot, like ear and throat stuff. Hopefully antibiotics will help."

Jesus nods and then gives a small smile. "You sound like a drowning Eugeneot."

Daryl gives a laugh. "Gee, thanks." He holds up the thermos. "Um, thanks for this."

Jesus takes the thermos and puts it on the table by the door and then runs his right hand through his hair and looks everywhere but at Daryl. "Yeah, I...uh...came up last night to see if you wanted to hang out again and heard you coughing. Thought you could use it."

"It was good. Thank you," Daryl says softly. They stand awkwardly for a moment before Daryl holds up the cardboard sleeve. "This is for you, just as a...thanks...I guess."

Jesus looks up and takes the sleeve - with his left hand, Daryl notices - and takes out the poster. He gives a pleased little chuff. "Oh wow, I...thanks, Daryl. Are you sure?"

Daryl nods and babbles. "Yeah, it's just a print...I mean, it's not like it's...you said you liked it, so..." Oh god, you fucking meatball...

Jesus gives Daryl a smile that would make him happily jump in front of traffic. "This is amazing. Thank you." He looks back up at Daryl. "What were you losing your shit over last night? You sounded like you were having a total meltdown."

Daryl winces and gives a groan. "You heard that?"

Jesus laughs and says, "It was hard not to."

Daryl waves his hands about in frustration. "Just trying to beat Deathstroke in Arkham Origins. It's the most annoying boss fight ever. I was in a bad mood to begin with so my patience was like this." He holds his thumb and fore-finger apart a few centimetres.

"Well, next time I come over, I could give it a go?" He looks at Daryl hopefully.

Daryl smiles and shifts his bag on his shoulder, the words "next time" instantly sparking excitement in him. "That would be cool."

Jesus grins. "I'll totally kick his ass for you."

Daryl feels a flush creeping up his neck and waves an arm, taking a step back. "I guess I'd better get going. I've got an appointment."

Jesus nods. "Sure. Hey, um...let me know how it goes?"

"I will," Daryl says, coughing. He heads towards the stairs, but suddenly turns back before Jesus closes his apartment door and blurts out, "Did you have lemons?"

Jesus opens his door wide again and gives Daryl a confused look. "What?"

"The drink. Did you have already have a ton of lemons or did you go out and buy them?" Daryl can't believe he's asking this.

Jesus leans against his door frame with a curious little smile. "I went out and bought them. Why?"

Daryl swallows and says as casually as he can, "Oh, no reason. I'll see you later." He turns to the stairs before his face is completely red and hurries down, waiting until he's out on the street before stopping next to a tree. He texts Michonne.

DARYL: He bought the lemons

Michonne answers in less than a minute.

MICHONNE: I told you. NOBODY just has lemons

***

The doctor applauds Daryl's ability to be able to develop an ear infection, sore throat and cough in less than a day. Daryl groans as some antibiotic goop is injected into his ear and the doctor wads up a cotton ball and packs it in, telling him to leave it for at least a week and try not to get any water in it. He prescribes something else that Daryl can barely hear, almost completely deaf now in his right ear. He just nods along with whatever the doctor is saying.

Daryl stops by a pharmacy on his way back home and watches amused while a little boy with a lazy eye-patch over one eye tries every tactic in the book to cajole his Mom into buying him a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles toy. The Mom totally isn't buying it though.

"Nicky, you've got more than enough Ninja Turtles," she says, no nonsense, before whisking him away, the kid's protests carrying all the way to the door.

He texts Michonne again on his way back.

DARYL: Antibiotics acquired, ear full of gunk, can't hear

MICHONNE: Good. Are you going to see Jesus?

DARYL: He told me to let him know how it went at the docs so yes

MICHONNE: Can you take a selfie and get him in the background - I need to see what he looks like

DARYL: I've never taken a selfie in my life and I'm not starting now

MICHONNE: He won't know that - I need to see

DARYL: No

MICHONNE: You don't deserve lemons

***

Daryl checks his mailbox in the lobby, hoping that his latest Amazon order is in but there's nothing. He considers checking Jesus's mail box and taking his mail up for him but decides against it. He walks up to the second floor and knocks on Jesus's door. He answers a bit quicker than he did earlier.

Daryl turns so Jesus can see his cotton-wadded ear and holds up his prescription. "Now to play the waiting game."

Jesus holds up a finger. "Wait here a sec," and disappears down the hallway and off into the kitchen. He comes back with a glass of water and a paper bag. He hands the water to Daryl. "Might as well make a start on those tablets now."

Daryl tries not to smile as he takes two of them and hands the water back. "Thanks."

Jesus hesitates and then holds out the paper bag. "I got you some blueberries. They're like full of good stuff, apparently."

Daryl takes the bag. Lemons AND blueberries. This is making his head spin.

"I don't think I've had this much fruit at any one time in my life," he says with a laugh that comes out sounding like a squeak.

Jesus gives a little shrug and a smile. "I thought it might help."

"I think it will. Thanks. Again."

Jesus seems to be deciding on something, then asks, "Do you want to hang out later? I mean, we could just watch a movie or something."

"Yeah, I'd lo - that would be cool. I don't want to infect you with whatever this is though."

Jesus gives a dismissive wave. "Pfff, I've got the immune system of a rhino. I'll bring food to make up for all the beer I drank the other night."

Daryl smiles. "Awesome. About seven?"

Jesus nods and then says, "Oh, uh...hang on." He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out his cell phone. "Let me give you my number, just in case."

"Cool," Daryl manages not to drop his phone as he taps in Jesus's name, then gives Jesus his own number. "I guess I'll see you later?"

Jesus steps back into his apartment. "I'll be there."

Daryl gives a wave and heads up the stairs, forgetting about the pain in his ear for a couple of minutes.

***

Daryl decides not to tell Michonne about the blueberries for now; he's allowed to keep something for himself. He still feels like crap but manages to finish the inks on at least one page.

"Daryl, I have to hand it to you. You've known this guy, what, less than two days, and you've already got his number, hung out with him AND he made you something from scratch. You'll forgive me for thinking that there is definitely something there."

Daryl smiles. "I know, I know. I'm...starting to believe it...maybe. But I still know barely anything about him."

Michonne speaks slowly, using the patronising tone he knows drives Rick insane. "That's why you hang out with him, so you can ask stuff and GET to know him. It's not rocket science, Daryl. Give him something too, y' know. Big yourself up a bit."

"I'm not very good at bigging myself up."

"Yes, that's because you're the world's most modest idiot. Just...you've got nothing to lose." Michonne makes a whiney crying noise." I just want to see you happy."

Daryl gives a smile. "Michonne, how can I not be happy with you and Rick around?"

Michonne makes a little noise and is quiet for a moment, then says, "I meant sex happy."

Daryl groans.

***

He takes a nap for a couple of hours and gets up at about 4pm, his cough slightly better but his ear still a dull constant ache. He throws on a clean t-shirt and paces for about an hour before finally sitting in front of Cartoon Network, chewing his nails. He manages to doze off in front of Adventure Time and wakes up with a start when his phone buzzes. He scrabbles for it to check the time. 6:45pm. Okay, phew. It's Rick, anyway.

RICK: Good luck with the big date

DARYL: It's not a date, just a movie, in my apartment

RICK: It's a date. Have you brushed your teeth?

DARYL: No

RICK: You're totally going to now

DARYL: He's bringing food so no and I'm sick

RICK: You totally will

DARYL: Go and brush your own teeth

RICK: Have fun :D :D :D

Daryl shakes his head. He has the best lame friends.

His phone buzzes again a few minutes later. It's Jesus.

JESUS: On my way up

Daryl stands up and then sits back down again. He waits, tapping his foot against the floor. There's a knock at the door and Daryl deliberately holds back for a few seconds before getting up and letting Jesus in. He's got a couple of bags full of chips and snacks and he's wearing a dark blue hoodie zipped up over a white t-shirt this time. He's still wearing a glove on his left hand.

He holds up the bags. "I bought all of this junk and realised that I pEugeneably should have got dinner stuff instead."

Daryl shakes his head. "That's okay. I haven't been up for much food-wise today. Snacks are good, thanks."

Jesus gives a smile. "Okay, cool." He puts the bags on the couch. "How are you feeling?"

Daryl nods. "A bit better. Pretty much can't hear anything with all this crap in my ear."

Jesus rubs his right hand up and down his left arm. Daryl saw him do it earlier. "I kind of feel bad inviting myself over again while you're ill. If you're not really up for it - "

"No, no, it's fine! I wanted to. I can't guarantee that I'll be much fun but it's nice to just...have someone to hang out with." Daryl turns away, busying himself with some pens, realising that he's kind of just admitted to not having any friends. At least not any that don't live a five and a half hour flight away. He dumps the pens on his desk then goes to sit down on the couch. He coughs but it's not as bad as it was earlier.

"Wait a sec," says Jesus and indicates the other end of the couch. "Sit over there and then I'm not talking into your deaf ear."

Daryl nods and shuffles down while Jesus sits and pulls a carton of orange juice out of one of the bags, handing it to Daryl. He takes out a bottle of water for himself.

"Do you have family in New York?" Jesus asks, dumping Cheetos, plain chips, two bags of Chex Mix and a pack of Strawberry Twizzlers on the coffee table.

Daryl sits back and opens the Cheetos. "No, my parents died when I was eleven. I don't really have any other immediate family."

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean - "

Daryl shakes his head. "No, it's okay. I ended up with a really great Peletier family; they encouraged me with my drawing and helped me through art school. I don't think I'd be where I am now without them. They moved to California though so I only see them a couple of times a year."

Jesus nods, chewing his bottom lip.

"How about you?" Daryl asks.

Jesus frowns slightly. "A sister who lives in Denmark. We don't really speak much."

There's a beat of silence and then Jesus leans back against the couch. "I've kind of put a downer on things. I'm sorry."

"You haven't," Daryl says quietly and Jesus looks over at him. There's a look on his face that gut-punches Daryl; a slightly desperate look and something almost like...like he's anxious for Daryl to accept him. It only lasts a second before Jesus turns away and looks over at one of Daryl's bookcases full of graphic novels before Daryl can say anything else.

"So, if someone wants to get into reading comics, what would they start with?"

Daryl immediately perks up and clambers over the back of the couch and heads for the bookshelf; he's not going to push Jesus. There's obviously a lot more going on with him than he lets on. "Now we're talking." He waits for Jesus to join him. "Are you into superhero stuff?"

Jesus shakes his head. "Not really."

Daryl nods and reaches for a book. "Okay, we'll start with the obvious - Watchmen. It's kind of like a superhero story but totally not. It's like..." He flounders for a minute, "Just take it. It's epic."

Jesus flips through Watchmen. "Woah, there's a naked blue guy in here."

Daryl smiles. "That's Dr Manhattan. Don't look too much, you might ruin the ending."

He pulls out more books and stands up next to Jesus, getting more animated. "100 Bullets is an awesome series. It's like a crime thriller with really well written characters. It's long too so if you like it, you'll have a blast - take the first three because they kind of get better after the first one. Um, Hellboy, definitely. That's one of my all-time favourites. I'll give you three of those, too. There's an awesome spin-off series that runs alongside it if you like it . Global Frequency is just two books long but is a really clever concept. There's one totally fucked up story that's just - I don't want to spoil it." He hands Jesus the books.

Jesus laughs. "Wow, you're really into this."

Daryl looks at all the books on his bookcase. "I don't understand how people couldn't be. There's so much great art and a lot of the stories are just like..." He spots another book and grabs it. "Oh! Planetary. You totally need Planetary." He pulls down another book and hands it to Jesus who adds it to the small pile he's holding.

"That should keep you going for a bit at least. I could pretty much end up giving you my entire collection." Jesus is watching him with a curious little grin, head cocked slightly, his hair falling into his face. Daryl is suddenly overcome by a wave of shyness and quickly takes off his glasses and cleans them on his t-shirt.

"Uh, you can hang onto those as long as you want."

Jesus holds them in the crook of his right arm. "I'll take care of them."

Daryl steps back towards the couch, coughing softly. "What kind of movie do you want to watch?"

Jesus puts the graphic novels on the table and sits down. "Something weird."

Daryl walks over to his DVD collection and considers for a moment. "Have you seen Society?"

Jesus shakes his head.

Daryl grins. "Oh man, if you want weird." He takes down the case and puts the DVD in the player.

"Is it horror or sci-fi or what?" asks Jesus.

Daryl sits back on the couch with a huge grin. "I'm not saying. Just watch it."

Jesus gives a little laugh, enjoying Daryl's excitement. "Okay, this had better be good."

For the next hour and thirty-something minutes, Daryl is having an insanely good time watching Jesus's reactions to the movie. Jesus is sat cross-legged on the couch with his right arm holding his left. He occasionally mumbles "what the hell," gives several laughs with an "oh my god" and come the big reveal, rakes his hand through his hair and turns to Daryl with a look of utter WTF on his face. Daryl bursts into gleeful laughter.

When the movie ends, Jesus turns to Daryl and throws him a look. "What the fuck did you just make me watch?!"

Daryl stands up with a smile. "An 80s body-horror classic."

Jesus covers his face with his arm. "I just...what the hell."

Daryl laughs and heads to the kitchen. He opens the blueberries and rinses them off, putting them into a bowl. "Pick something else. I could pEugeneably manage another one," he calls to Jesus.

Jesus stands up and scans the DVD collection. Daryl puts the blueberries on the coffee table and steals a few glances at Jesus while he picks out a DVD, reads the back, puts it back, picks another. He looks away quickly when Jesus turns around, holding up Dead Snow.

"What's this like?"

Daryl smiles. "It's awesome. Nazi zombies."

"Sold." Jesus takes out Society, and puts in the new DVD. He sits back down next to Daryl, grabbing a blueberry and throwing it up and catching it in his mouth. He does it another five times in a row, each time throwing the blueberries higher and gives Daryl a check-me-out grin.

Daryl pffts and picks up a blueberry, throws it up way too high and groans when it hits his glasses, leaving a mark and bouncing off onto the floor somewhere. Jesus cracks up.

"Lame," he exclaims still laughing as Daryl flips him a finger and takes his glasses off to wipe them off on his t-shirt. Jesus reaches for them when Daryl finishes and Daryl hands them to him.

"So are these a hipster thing or what?"

"No, I actually need them to see things and I'm totally NOT a hipster," Daryl says. He watches as Jesus tries them on - holy shit, he looks hot in glasses - and makes a horrified noise.

"Oh my god, you're totally blind! I feel like I'm underwater."

"I'm not THAT blind," Daryl says. "I'm mildly short-sighted."

"Mildly?" Jesus laughs. "You're just a blond blob surrounded by other blobs. Oh man, my eyes can't take it." He takes them off and before handing them back to Daryl says, "So how clearly can you see me?"

"Clearly enough to see that you're a jerk," Daryl says and leans across to grab them as Jesus laughs again. Daryl can't believe how effortless this feels; just being able to slip into an easy banter with someone.

Daryl puts his glasses back on and says, "What?" at the weird little grin Jesus is giving him.

"You've got the freakiest blue eyes," he says but not unkindly.

Daryl can feel his face grow hot. "The guy who writes the comic I draw always sings this song by The Who to me called Behind Blue Eyes. It drives me insane. It doesn't even make any sense about me lyrics-wise, he only does it because he thinks it's funny."

Jesus starts to sing the song in a low, clear voice. Daryl looks up surprised, his chest suddenly feeling warm as he listens to Jesus sing the first couple of verses. "It's a good song," Jesus says when he's finished.

"Well, I used to like it," Daryl mumbles, knowing full well that he likes it even more now that Jesus just sang it to him.

Jesus sits back, letting his hair fall over his face. "Okay, so are we watching this Nazi zombie movie or what?"

Daryl gets up. "Hang on, I need to take my antibiotics. Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks, Blue Eyes." Daryl can hear the smirk in Jesus's voice. He throws a cushion at Jesus as he heads to the kitchen but he's buzzing slightly. Jesus can mention his eyes whenever he wants.

Daryl gulps down his tablets and then joins Jesus back on the couch.

"So what's the plot of this one?" he asks Daryl.

Daryl snorts. "Plot?"

He starts to get sleepy about thirty minutes into the movie, chewing on a Twizzler and trying to keep his eyes focused on the screen. He's also trying to focus on Jesus's laughter and his little exclamations of delight he makes at the ridiculous action in the movie. Eventually he can feel the tiredness overtaking him and dozes off with Jesus's giggles in his ears.

***

Daryl is aware that someone is talking to him and blinks awake. The TV is turned off and Jesus is crouched down in front of him, shaking him gently on the shoulder and saying his name softly.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Daryl says groggily.

Jesus gives him a smile. "You've been out for the last hour. The movie's finished."

Daryl props himself up. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was fun. I'm going to head off now. You need to sleep."

Daryl rubs an eye. "Okay. Don't forget the books."

Jesus holds them up. "I'm going to start them tomorrow. Thanks."

Daryl gets up, wincing at a crick in his neck where he fell asleep awkwardly on the couch. He follows Jesus to the door. Jesus stops just outside and turns to Daryl with a smile.

"Thanks again. I'll let you know if I get any nightmares from Society."

Daryl laughs. "I've got worse movies than that. We'll do one next time."

Jesus gives him a crooked little smile. "Colour me intrigued." He heads off towards the stairs. "You totally smell like Twizzlers," he calls without looking back and heads down to his floor.

Daryl leans against the front door after he closes it and lets out a shaky breath. Yeah, he's got it pretty bad.

***

Daryl's alarm goes off at 6am and he hits the snooze button with a grunt. He clears his throat to gauge his cough. Still there but not as bad as yesterday. His ear is still thEugenebing but at a lower rate. Okay, this is a start. He rolls over to catch another ten minutes and his phone buzzes. He sighs; he's surprised that Michonne has managed to make it this long without wanting to know how last night went. He reaches over for his glasses and props himself up on his elbows and sMichonneches up his phone. He blinks. It's not Michonne, it's Jesus.

JESUS: Okay, I thought I'd read a couple of pages of Watchmen before I went to sleep last night and I just finished the whole book. PEugeneably one of the best things I've ever read. Emotional wreck. Your fault...

DARYL: Rorschach is one of the greatest characters ever created

JESUS: I just can't process it

DARYL: That ending, right?

JESUS: I haven't felt like this since I watched Bambi as a kid

DARYL: Wow

JESUS: Why would you do this to me

DARYL: Because you need to read all of the awesome things

JESUS: Need sleep. You are a very bad influence

DARYL: :D

He smiles to himself and lies in bed for another twenty minutes, indulging himself in some elaborate Jesus-related fantasies (although he can't quite bring himself to think about THOSE kind of Jesus-related fantasies. Not quite yet, anyway...)

He gets up and heads straight to the kitchen to put on coffee and puts two pieces of bread into the toaster. He re-reads the text thread about ten times as he waits for his laptop to warm up. He quickly scans his emails: An offer for a variant cover on a pretty popular mainstream series, an invitation to be a guest on a pod-cast that he really likes, a few junky emails. He decides to answer all of those later and Skypes Michonne.

"Well, Mr Dixon. How are you this fine morning?"

"Better, I think. I actually slept last night."

"Alone or...?" Michonne teases.

"Yes, alone. And yes, it was fun last night." Daryl tells Michonne about the whole Blue Eyes thing and Michonne makes excited noises.

"He stayed up reading Watchmen when he got home and texted me like first thing this morning," Daryl says, shuffling pages aside and trying to find his 0.5 fine-liner as he takes a bite of slightly burnt toast.

"Did he like it?" Michonne asks, talking with her mouth full, no doubt eating a bagel with cream cheese - her favourite.

"He said he was an emotional wreck and that I'm a bad influence on him."

Michonne snorts. "You couldn't be a bad influence on anyone if you tried; you're like the most horribly decent person I know."

"I could be a bad seed if I wanted to."

Michonne laughs and then chokes slightly as a piece of bagel goes down the wrong way. "Yeah, because all the tough kids say "bad seed". You pick up other people's litter and help old ladies with their groceries - you couldn't be a bad seed if you tried! You're like the All-American Boy."

Daryl sighs theatrically. "Fine, I guess I'll just be boring old me."

"I didn't say you were boring. And Jesus obviously doesn't think you're boring either."

"I hope not," he says.

They talk for a while about movies. Rick made Michonne watch the remake of Total Recall after they finished Ghost Dad and Michonne threatened to divorce him for liking it. Daryl tries to do an impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger and makes Michonne laugh until she retches. She makes Daryl put on Them Crooked Vultures and sings along in her stupid high-pitched voice until Daryl begs her to stop.

"Oh, me and Rick are going to his aunts lake house tomorrow for the weekend so you'll have to make do with whatever signal we can get on our phones. No internet up there."

"What? You're leaving me for some crusty old lake house?" he gripes, only half joking.

"Yeah, I guess you'll have to try and seduce some hot guy in your apartment building over the weekend instead," Michonne replies. "Me and Rick have a bet going on as to when something is actually going to happen between you two."

"What the hell!"

"I'll split the winnings with you because I'm absolutely going to win."

Daryl puts on his best offended voice. "I knew I was just a dancing monkey to you guys."

"We've got you a little waistcoat and a fez."

Daryl laughs. "Gee, thanks."

He cringes as he hears Michonne crack her knuckles. "Okay, I need to go to the store and get lake house supplies. TONS of condoms."

"Aaarrgghh, no!" Daryl yells.

Michonne gives a wicked laugh. "Well, we're not going up there for the beautiful scenery and rare birds."

"Have a great trip. Please don't tell me all about it."

"We'll be thinking about you the whole time."

***

Daryl is still in his pyjamas at 1:30pm but has almost finished inking his pages and has made a start on answering his emails when he happens to glance out of his window and sees Jesus leaving the apartment building. He's wearing a baseball cap, his hair poking out of the bottom, and a green army jacket over the blue hoodie he was wearing last night. Daryl watches as he walks across the street, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, towards the subway. He watches him walk as far as he can before he disappears out of sight. Daryl wonders where Jesus is going and tries to ignore the pang in his chest that he feels knowing that Jesus isn't on the floor below.

***

Although his ear still hurts, Daryl is feeling a lot better by 5pm and has had a productive day, getting a glowing email from Spencer to him and Michonne about the first four finished pages on the latest issue that she must have sent him earlier in the day. He made some thumbnails on the variant cover and even managed to start a sketch for fun that he's had in mind for a while. He's about to jump in the shower when he gets a text from Jesus.

JESUS: Hey dude. Can't hang out tonight. Hope that's okay

Daryl can't help the feeling of disappointment that washes over him.

DARYL: No pEugenelem. Everything alright?

JESUS: Yeah, just a bit of a crappy day. Long story, blah blah. Do something at the weekend?

DARYL: Totally. Just let me know when

JESUS: Look forward to it

Daryl gives a sigh. He knows he's going to be counting down the minutes until he sees Jesus again.


	3. Chapter 3

It's Friday morning and Daryl can't stop thinking about Jesus. He thinks about him as soon as he wakes up, when he's making coffee and takes his antibiotics, when he answers his emails, when he's working on the pencils for the variant cover. He keeps glancing hopefully at his phone, wanting Jesus to text but the morning crawls on and nothing. About a hundred times he considers texting him but chickens out at the last minute. He's a total wuss and he knows it but he doesn't want to be desperate wuss.

His phone buzzes at 11:45am and he sMichonneches it up but it's Michonne. Attached is a photo of her and Rick holding about ten condoms each and making suggestive faces. Daryl can't help but laugh; he doesn't know what he'd do without Michonne and Rick.

DARYL: Gross. And a bit ambitious on Rick's part maybe?

MICHONNE: All for you, Daryl. And Rick wants to know why you're thinking about his part *wink*

DARYL: I always think about Rick's part. I'm only friends with you to get to Rick's part

MICHONNE: Rick says he's yours anytime you want him but he thinks maybe you should be thinking about Jesus's part instead

DARYL: I'm not going to answer that

MICHONNE: You just did, you filthy boy

DARYL: Have a great time you pair of pervs

MICHONNE :D :D :D

Daryl tosses his phone on the desk and cranks up his music. Okay, he'll leave it until 3pm and text Jesus. Just one quick text, to see if he's read any of the other graphic novels he lent him.

God, this is pathetic, Daryl thinks to himself. He feels like he's fifteen again when he had a huge crush on Scott Lang in high school. Scott had been on the basketball team and hadn't been the most popular boy in school but was popular enough that he hadn't had much reason to interact with Daryl at all. Daryl had been in the Art Club and Book Society. Scott had a ton of friends, Daryl didn't really have any. Daryl had pined for the better part of a year over Scott and had been devastated when Scott had ended up with Angelica Jones, a smart, pretty girl who everyone liked. They were actually married now; Daryl had looked him up on Facebook a while back, just to torture himself.

Daryl had always hoped that his shyness and lack of confidence would eventually get better the older he got, but college had been a mainly solitary experience for him and drove his self-confidence into the ground. He couldn't afford to live on campus and had made few friends, focusing on his work and trying not to let the loneliness cripple him, putting on a brave face for Kyle and Spencerantha, his Peletier parents. He often beat himself up for not just going for it and doing what came easily to most people, just talking to them, hanging out. But whenever he tried, he would freeze up, turn red, chest tightening, anxiety turning him into a clammy mess. So he just eventually accepted being alone, trying not to let it sucker-punch him in the middle of the night when all he could was sob quietly until he fell asleep.

Meeting Jesus had sparked something in Daryl; yes, he's totally attracted to Jesus but he also feels easy in his presence and when he gets over the initial flustering, he feels more like himself, more like the person Michonne and Rick seem to like so much and part of him wants to cling desperately to that. Even if Jesus isn't attracted to Daryl, his friendship would be enough.

He looks up as a Facebook message bloops. It's Glenn.

GLENN: Hey Daryl! Just wondering when you, Michonne and Rick are getting into Chicago for Ultron-Con next week?

DARYL: Hey Glenn - Thursday afternoon. How about you?

GLENN: Spencere - are you guys up for getting some drinks thurs evening?

DARYL: Oh, I think so. How are things? Really digging your stuff for Dark Horse

GLENN: Awesome! Can't wait to see you guys. Thanks - it's a lot of fun! You and Michonne are KILLING Stark's book - Issue 3? You talented prick!

DARYL: Rick said similar so I'll say thanks. Is Maggie coming to U-Con too?

GLENN: Maggie would rather wash her eyes out with bleach, so no, just little old me.

DARYL: :D Yeah, I'll be gearing myself up from Monday. Deep healing breaths

GLENN: Dude, you'll be fine. You'll be too busy to think about anything else! What panels are you doing?

DARYL: Me, Michonne and Negan are doing one on the book (FUN), and I'm doing a general artist panel with Eugene Porter and Morgan Jones

GLENN: Oh awesome! Morgan is a great guy. Don't know Porter that well but his work is really nice. Yeah, good luck getting a word in edgewise with Stark and his ego!

DARYL: See why I'll be gearing myself up? I can only take that guy in very small doses

GLENN: Well, I'm mainly looking forward to getting a certain artist totally smashed on Captain Morgan's again...

DARYL: You guys are never going to let me live that down

GLENN: Hey, isn't your Skype handle Captain Dixon? You loved it!

DARYL: It doesn't happen often...

GLENN: Captain Dixon is awesome!

DARYL: Captain Dixon is a moron

GLENN: Dude, you were so funny - I mean, you're funny anyway but I've never seen you that drunk and you were HILARIOUS!

DARYL: You, Michonne and Rick are the only people I would ever get THAT drunk with

GLENN: Which is why I need to buy you all of the drinks

DARYL: You're forgetting the really good part where I threw up outside of Subway and started to cry

GLENN: Aw, nobody cared about that!

DARYL: Captain Dixon did

GLENN: Okay, we'll go easy on you but I really do want to see Captain Dixon again...

DARYL: I'll see if I can convince him to make an appearance

GLENN: Yay!

***

Three o'clock comes and goes and Daryl has totally chickened out of texting Jesus, picking his phone up, starting a message and then deleting it about five times. He finally gives up and finishes inking issue 5, trying to keep the self-loathing at bay. He throws his pen down at four-thirty and heads out to the grocery store, deliberately trying not to glance at Jesus's apartment door as he passes it. In the store he considers buying Jesus some lemons but then puts them back, feeling like an idiot. At 6 o'clock he texts Michonne and Rick, wondering if they have any signal at the lake house.

DARYL: Hope you guys made it to the lake house okay

MICHONNE: We did and are doing filthy things

DARYL: Ew no

MICHONNE: Rick caught a fish and gutted it and I fell over into a cow pat, not sure what filthy things you're thinking of

DARYL :) Miss you guys

MICHONNE: Next weekend I'm going to be hugging you sooooo hard

DARYL: I honestly can't wait

He makes himself an early dinner and puts on Twin Peaks intending to watch the whole first series to distract himself. He convinces himself to text Jesus first thing in the morning to see if he still wants to meet up. He definitely will.

***

Daryl finishes Twin Peaks at about 1am and makes his way to bed, feeling exhausted. A David Lynch marathon before sleeping was a bad idea. He brushes his teeth, avoiding his gaze in the mirror and the goes to his room and clambers under the bed covers, trying to ignore the empty feeling inside him. He's just turned off his lamp when a text comes through. His heart leaps - it's Jesus.

JESUS: Hey

DARYL: Hey!

JESUS: Hope I didn't wake you

DARYL: I only just got into bed - everything okay?

There's nothing for about ten minutes and Daryl is almost about to text again, wondering if everything is okay with Jesus when another message finally comes through.

JESUS: Yeah, fine. Just wanted to say hi

DARYL: Do you still want to meet up tomorrow?

JESUS: Is that okay?

DARYL: Of course - my place after lunch? 12:30ish?

JESUS: Awesome :) How are you feeling today?

DARYL: Much better, thanks. Ear still hurts but not half as bad. I should be better company tomorrow

JESUS: Because you're such terrible company generally

DARYL: There's less chance of me falling asleep this time

JESUS: See you tomorrow, Blue Eyes :P

Daryl instantly feels wide awake again.

***

The next morning, he starts to sort out his work for Ultron-Con. He's attended this comic convention before and it was a busy one for him, signing comics and doing sketches for people and he generally had a great, if not exhausting time. His table is next to Michonne's, which is good; he sometimes gets a bit overwhelmed at cons and knowing that her and Rick will be close by makes him feel less nervous than usual. Daryl wishes sometimes that he wasn't so shy - it cripples him more than he lets on to Michonne and Rick.

He needs to make a trip to the art store next week, as well as getting a few new portfolio pieces printed and makes a checklist for himself. He feels a small swell of pride that he's made it this far with his artwork; he's not good at much but he's good at drawing (even though you would physically twist his arm to make him admit it out loud.) Michonne keeps pounding it into him that he needs to just accept that he's good and that other people think he's good too.

Daryl glances at his phone - 11:15am. He feels like it's Christmas morning, he's so jittery. He quickly eats some toast and jumps in the shower, almost forgetting about his cotton-packed ear and spending too long trying to wash his hair without getting the spray anywhere near the right side of his head - not an easy feat. He gets dressed and puts on a white t-shirt and his favourite blue plaid short-sleeved shirt, the one Michonne says makes his eyes look even dreamier (her words, not his). He heads back into the living room and crouches in front of the portfolio pieces spread out on the floor, still trying to decide which pieces to drop and which to keep.

Daryl is engrossed in flipping through a couple of his older sketchbooks, considering if he should take a couple along to the con when there's a knock on the door - Jesus's knock. He looks at the time - 12:10pm. He wants to take Jesus being super early as a good sign. He smoothes his hair with one hand, hurries over and answers the door and can't help the stupid goofy grin that stretches across his face.

Jesus smiles back, his eyes bright. "Hey man," he says. He looks as though he hasn't seen Daryl for weeks which instantly makes Daryl feel like hugging him and more right there in the hallway. He's holding what looks like board game under his right arm. "Sorry I'm early."

Daryl steps asides and Jesus walks in. He's wearing the Spencere dark blue hoodie from the other day. "No pEugenelem. How's it going?"

Jesus nods noncommittally. "Not bad." He sees the artwork spread out on the floor and Daryl steps around him to clear it up.

"Sorry, I was hoping to have this sorted by the time you got here. I'm at a comic con in Chicago next weekend and I needed to get my stuff ready."

"Oh, cool," Jesus says, and bends down to look at one of Daryl's postcards that he hands out to people with his name and website on. "Do you do drawings and stuff for people there?"

Daryl places the loose prints back into his portfolio and sets it on the desk." Yeah, sketches, signings and some panels with other artists. It's good but exhausting."

Jesus stands back up and holds out a few graphic novels which he has tucked next to the box he's holding. "I medically need more 100 Bullets. This series is just..." He waves his arm around. "It's fucking awesome."

Daryl laughs and takes the books. "I know right? I'll hook you up with some more before you go. Hey, I'm like your dealer for comics."

Jesus holds up the box with a little smile. "This is so lame but I have Battleship."

Daryl laughs. "Holy shit, I haven't played Battleship since I was ten!"

"Me neither. I found it when I was unpacking. I didn't even realise I had it. Wanna play?"

"Heck, yes! Can I get you a drink or anything?"

Jesus heads over to the couch. "Um, a soda or something? If you're having one."

Daryl grabs two cans out of the fridge and joins Jesus on the couch. He's setting up the boards on the middle cushion and Daryl sits cross-legged on one end, handing Jesus his drink. Daryl can't help but notice that Jesus seems a bit less energetic than the last couple of times they've met, head down more than usual, shoulders hunched. He has dark circles under his eyes.

"Thanks," Jesus says. "I have to warn you, I kick ass at this game."

"Yeah? Well, I remember being pretty good at it when I was younger so don't get your hopes up."

Jesus looks up and raises an eyebrow. "Challenge accepted." Daryl melts a little inside as Jesus gives him a cocky smile.

They set up their grids and start to play. As the game progresses, Daryl notices that Jesus does this...thing with his lips and it's making Daryl a tiny bit crazy. Whenever Daryl calls out a grid position, Jesus chews his bottom lip, then swipes his tongue over it before saying "Miss." Daryl squirms slightly, trying not to focus too much on it.

They've been playing for about 20 minutes and Jesus sinks yet another one of Daryl's battleships. He hasn't hit even one of Jesus's yet. Daryl is getting a bit frustrated; he's by no means a sore loser but technically he should have hit at least one of Jesus's ships by now.

"What the hell?" he mutters as he puts a peg on G6. "How am I hitting NONE of your ships?"

Jesus gives a little shrug. "I don't know, man." As he leans forward to study his grid, his hair falls into his face and Daryl catches a tiny little smirk ghost across Jesus's face.

"Oh my god, you're cheating!" Daryl cries out and Jesus looks up, eyes wide, his mouth falling open in a totally guilty smile.

"No, I'm not," he says, "I'm just really good at this!"

Daryl lunges forward and pushes Jesus away, spinning his board around. Jesus has started to laugh against the arm of the couch, seeming more like himself, Daryl notes with some relief.

"You're TOTALLY cheating! I SAID H7 and D9! What the fuck? And that one! I would have won by now!"

Jesus is laughing hard now. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself."

Daryl sits back and crosses his arms. "I bet you steal money from the bank in Monopoly, too."

"Only when no-one's looking," Jesus says, laughing even harder at Daryl's indignant look.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll play for real this time."

Daryl shoots him a glare, trying hard to stay angry. "I don't think I want to now."

Jesus leans forward with an apologetic smile. "I said I was sorry."

Daryl shakes his head.

Jesus nudges Daryl's foot with his own. "Come on, Daryl."

Daryl's chest flutters when Jesus calls him that and he can't hold back the smile he's been hiding. Jesus's face breaks out into a huge grin.

Daryl leans forward and starts to pull the pegs out of his board. "Fine, but you suck."

Jesus gives a little snort. "I know. I bet you've totally cheated playing games. Everyone cheats, sometimes."

Daryl starts to reset his board. "Actually, no I haven't."

"Come on, never? Even just for fun?" He sounds incredulous.

"Nope."

"Why?"

Daryl throws his hands up. "Because it's wrong!" he says, as if Jesus should know.

Jesus is silent for a beat. "Well, now I feel like a total asshole for cheating." He shakes his head with a little smile.

Daryl doesn't look up from his board. "You ARE a total asshole for cheating. But I still like you." He glances up at Jesus and looks down quickly when he sees the amused little smile Jesus is giving him.

"You're something else, Daryl Dixon," he says quietly.

Daryl is silent for a beat. "C7," he says and they start to play.

***

Daryl doesn't think he's had this much fun in a long time. Jesus stays true to his word and doesn't cheat this time, and they're both pretty evenly matched with Daryl winning by one game. Jesus keeps telling really unfunny jokes that still manage to set Daryl off into uncontrollable fits of laughter. Jesus seems pleased every time he gets Daryl laughing and seems to be making it his mission to make Daryl snort, which he did once and had Jesus in hysterics.

They're about to set up for another game when Jesus clears his throat. "This is going to sound really dumb..." He hesitates and Daryl looks up. "...but...I know we only met like three days ago, but I feel like I've known you for ages." He doesn't look up from his board.

Daryl continues making up his grid. "Me too," he says softly.

Jesus looks away quickly when Daryl meets his eyes (Christ, those eyes). "I'm usually pretty closed off with new people but you...you're really...easy to talk to." Daryl notices that Jesus has turned slightly pink.

"I'm glad," Daryl manages, willing himself not to blush too.

Jesus seems to be on the verge of saying something else, but then seems to decide against it.

There's a moment of awkward silence and then Jesus says, "Okay. Uh, D5."

"Miss," Daryl says.

Jesus fiddles with a peg. "So, how long are you at that comic convention for next weekend?"

Daryl pushes his glasses up. "F10. My flight's on Thursday morning. There's some panels and stuff on the Friday afternoon so I need to be there to set up. Michonne and Rick are going Thursday too, so I get to hang out with them and our friend Glenn which is cool. I haven't seen them for a while. I'm back Sunday evening."

Jesus nods. "F10 miss. J9. Sounds like fun."

Daryl lets out a groan. "J9 - hit. Yeah, it is but it's - oh crap!" He exclaims and slaps a hand to his temple. "Shit, you just reminded me of something I need to do. Hold on a sec."

Daryl climbs over the back of the couch and goes and sits at his desk, flipping open his laptop.

Jesus watches from the couch. "Everything okay?"

Daryl sighs. "Yeah, I was meant to send Michonne some files of stuff to get printed. Sorry, I wont be long."

Jesus stands up and stretches. "No pEugenelem." His left arm stays at his side and Daryl realises he'd totally forgotten about it. He tries not to stare as Jesus's hoodie rides up slightly, exposing the top of his boxers. Jesus walks over to his bookshelf and starts to flip through an art book.

Daryl zips up the files and sends them across to Michonne with an apologetic email, hoping it's not too late for her friend to print his stuff, knowing that she pEugeneably wont get it until Monday anyway. He can already feel himself start to get wound up again for next weekend. He should be used to the manic Michonneure of conventions by now, but Daryl being Daryl somehow gets into a state of panic over the smallest things. He stands up and manages to knock over a plastic cup full of pens. He lets out a frustrated howl as they skitter all over the floor. Jesus comes over with a smile and starts to help pick them up.

"You're getting a bit worked up," he says, putting a bunch of pens back into the cup.

Daryl shakes his head. "I know. I can't help it. I start to worry like a week in advance of these things. It doesn't help that I had a full-on panic attack at the last con I went to and I'm worried it'll happen again."

Jesus looks up at him, his face unreadable. "What happened?"

Daryl fiddles with a pen, clicking the cap on and off. "I don't know. One minute I was fine, just sketching and the next...I just...I got all dizzy and couldn't breathe. I was trying not to make a scene but Rick took me outside and had to help calm me down. He's good like that. Michonne got scared and they wanted to take me to the hospital and it turned into this big thing. I was okay in the end but it kind of got me a bit..." he trails off.

Jesus is silent for a moment then says quietly, "I had a panic attack on the subway the other day."

Daryl looks up at him. "What?"

Jesus looks down at the floor. "I had an...appointment and instead of taking the bus, like I should have done, I tried the subway. I was down there for about ten minutes before I...people tried to help and they called an ambulance and it was...so embarrassing. I had no-one to call and I'm sure all those people must have thought I was..." he can't seem to finish. "That's why I couldn't come over." He frowns at the floor. Daryl thinks back to seeing Jesus leave the building the other day and his stomach twists at the thought of him alone and scared, surrounded by strangers in a New York subway.

"You could have called me," Daryl says softly.

Jesus looks up, his eyes worried but searching. "I couldn't ask you..."

Daryl steps forward and puts the pens he's been holding back into the plastic cup. "Yes, you could."

"You would have come?"

Daryl meets his eyes. "We're friends, right? Of course I would've."

Jesus looks away and swallows and doesn't say anything. When he does speak, it's barely audible. "Thank you." He turns away.

He wants to talk, Daryl thinks. But he doesn't say anything to Jesus, doesn't push it. He gets the feeling that if he tries to ask anything further, Jesus will shut down. Michonne was right - if Jesus wants to talk about whatever it is he keeps skirting the subject of, he will.

Daryl indicates the couch. "Do you want to finish the game or do something else?"

Jesus unconsciously rubs his left arm. "Something else?"

Daryl starts to tidy away the Battleship pieces and puts the box on the coffee table. Jesus has drifted over to Daryl's video games and crouches to look through them. Daryl heads to the kitchen and starts to boil some water to make green tea for Jesus and coffee for himself.

Jesus turns as Daryl puts the mugs on the table and gives him grateful smile. "Thanks." He holds up ZombiU. "What's this like?"

Daryl scratches his head. "It's good. I, uh, haven't played much of it because it freaked me out a bit."

Jesus laughs. "Really?"

"It's first person and scary. Don't look at me like that!"

Jesus turns on the Wii U and puts the disk in. "Okay, I have to play it now."

Daryl sits down, happy to watch Jesus play. He familiarises himself with the controls, muttering to himself as he gets to grips with the touch screen. Daryl can't help but find the face Jesus makes when he concentrates, kind of frowning, jaw jutting slightly, pretty adorable.

"Okay," Jesus mumbles. "I think I've got it."

"Good luck," Daryl says and sits back with a smile.

Jesus let's out a chuff. "It's a game. How scary can it be?" He starts to play and within twenty minutes is sitting further forward on the couch than he was to begin with, face tense.

"Shit shit shit," he mutters as zombies pour into the safehouse. He keeps looking down at the control pad which doesn't help.

Daryl tries to offer advice. "Just make sure you keep by the wall - don't look down at the controller, you need to focus on the screen. Watch out - if you die, you wont have the items you've collected when you continue."

"Will you stop saying stuff, you're panicking me!" Jesus says, annoyed.

Daryl makes a "well-excuse-me" noise and sits back again. Jesus turns a corner straight into a zombie which attacks and they both scream, slightly less masculine than they would have liked. Jesus jumps up and starts to shout, waving the controller about. Daryl cracks up as Jesus's character dies. Jesus lets out a string of expletives.

"Okay, I don't want to play this anymore." He sits down and puts the controller on the table.

"Told you," Daryl says throwing Jesus a shit-eating grin.

"Yeah, you're so smart," Jesus says, and leans over to mess up Daryl's hair.

Daryl grabs Jesus's hand and says, "Hey, not the hair! I spend all of two minutes brushing this." He quickly lets go of Jesus's hand when he holds it slightly too long.

Jesus picks up his mug and drinks some of his tea. "I was thinking," he says, kind of a bit too casually, "if you want to come to my place for lunch tomorrow? I mean, if you're not busy. I can't cook all that well but I can make this pasta thing that tastes almost like food." He's nervously playing with the paper tag on the end of the tea bag string.

"Sure, that sounds great," Daryl says, and he picks up the controller and starts to play where Jesus left off, trying not to read too much into anything.

"Awesome," Jesus says and Daryl thinks he can hear relief in his voice.

Jesus leaves at 9pm, and it's all Daryl can do not to ask him to stay longer.

 

***

Daryl heads down to Jesus's apartment at 1pm the next day, wiping his palms nervously on his jeans. He knocks on the door. Jesus answers a minute later, smiling and ushering Daryl in. He's barefoot again and wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans.

"Um, I got started on lunch a bit late so it still needs to go in the oven for a little while," he says apologetically to Daryl.

"That's okay," Daryl says and follows Jesus through to the living room. His apartment is a lot less cluttered than Daryl's, and slightly more grown-up looking, Daryl thinks, suddenly embarrassed with his own place. The furniture is modern and minimal and there are a few books on the table in front of the TV and a large canvas print of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks on one wall.

"Wow, you unpacked and got this place sorted quickly," Daryl says. The last time he was here, there were boxes everywhere. It took him at least a week to get his shit together when he moved into his own place.

"Yeah, I don't sleep much so I just got on with it. I hate having boxes all over the place." He watches as Daryl walks over to look at some more framed pictures Jesus has arranged smartly on one wall. He smiles and points at his An American Werewolf In London print, hanging in a light wooden frame. "You framed it?"

Jesus gives him a little shrug. "I really like it." He shifts nervously. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"Just a glass of water?" Daryl can't help but notice that Jesus seems a bit on edge.

Jesus nods and heads into the kitchen.

Daryl turns back to the pictures. There's a diploma for a degree in Political Science hanging up too, and Daryl smiles as he reads the name Paul Rovia printed on it.

"Your name is Paul?" he asks and turns towards the kitchen. Jesus comes back with a glass of water and hands it to Daryl. He nods, giving a self-conscious little smile.

"Yeah, nobody calls me Paul, though." He heads back to the kitchen.

"So where does Jesus come from?" Daryl asks.

He hears plates clattering. "My middle name. It's, uh, Buchanan, like the President. Kind of lame but for some reason the nickname stuck."

Daryl gives a small laugh. "It's kind of cool. My middle name is Grant. Can I help with anything?" he offers.

"No, I'm good," Jesus calls back, his voice sounding tight.

Daryl goes to take a sip of water and stops short of his mouth when his eyes rest on a framed photo. Jesus is in military fatigues, a taller man next to him dressed the Spencere with a shaved head, arm slung around Jesus's neck, both laughing at the camera. Jesus's hair is shorter than it is now and he's giving the finger to the photographer with his left hand, his real hand. He looks happy, his eyes bright. Daryl swallows. He remembers telling Michonne that he thought Jesus might have been in the military. So this is what Jesus had been wanting to tell him, not quite managing with words. Daryl puts his glass down and turns to the kitchen. Jesus is leaning against the door frame, watching Daryl, hair obscuring his face.

Daryl indicates to the photo. "A friend?" he says softly, pointing to the other man in the picture. Jesus nods and walks over stiffly, standing next to Daryl, staring ahead at the photograph.

"Tim," he says, voice strained.

"What happened?"

Jesus inhales through his nose, his voice flat when he answers. "We were in Afghanistan. Land mine. Tim died. I didn't." He rubs at his arm again.

Daryl looks down at the floor. "Shit, Jesus. I'm so sorry." His voice is almost a whisper. He looks up at Jesus, floundering. He has no idea what the right thing to say is. Jesus looks at him.

"It's hard to tell people about myself," he says quietly, "but I feel like I have to because of this..." He holds up his left arm.

"I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, so I didn't..." Daryl begins.

Jesus shakes his head. "I'm glad you didn't. I wanted...to tell you, the first day we met. But it didn't seem right, just blurting it out. I have such a great time when I hang out with you, I didn't want to think about it. It's all...fucked up."

They're both silent for a few minutes. Daryl tries to form the right words in his head.

Daryl turns to Jesus, and shifts a bit, hoping what he wants to say doesn't sound totally idiotic. "I can't ever know what you've been through or how you feel, but...I can listen. If you ever wanted to talk."

Jesus looks away quickly and Daryl suddenly panics, thinking that he's made Jesus angry, or insulted him in some way, but then Jesus turns back and his face is soft, blinking his eyes hard. He nods.

Daryl reaches out tentatively with his right hand and gently touches Jesus on the shoulder, letting his hand rest there for a moment.

Jesus swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and nods towards the kitchen. "I'd better..." He walks off and Daryl rubs the back of his neck. He wishes he could talk to Michonne. He makes his way over to the kitchen and watches as Jesus pulls a dish out of the oven, not looking up at Daryl.

"Can I least set the table?" Daryl asks.

Jesus looks up and gives a little smile, his eyes slightly red. "Sure. Forks and stuff are in that drawer." He nods towards Daryl's left.

Daryl gets knives and forks and takes them out to the dining table, placed where his desk sits in his own apartment. He goes back to the kitchen and Jesus is serving pasta onto two plates.

"That smells really good," Daryl says.

"Well, it's the only thing I can really make. I'm not a great cook." Jesus clears his throat and seems to gather himself.

"I could give you a run for your money there. I tried to bake a cake once and put salt into the mix instead of sugar. I ate two pieces before I realised."

Jesus looks up at Daryl and gives a laugh. "You're kidding?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Nope. It was gross."

Jesus hesitates before picking up the plates and puts his hand on his hip. "Thanks Daryl," he says. He seems unable to say anything else. He walks out of the kitchen and over to the table. Daryl follows and they eat.

 

***

After lunch they eat candy and watch some episodes of Buffy on SyFy and talk about growing up in Brooklyn. Jesus seems more like himself and Daryl wonders how hard it was for him to build up to this. He doesn't want to feel sorry for Jesus - he's sure that's the last thing Jesus would want him to do - but he wants to help him in any way that he can, even if that's just listening to him when he needs someone to listen. He's not a therapist, he doesn't know how this all works, but he hopes he can do...something.

He also realises, as Jesus does a really good impression of Spike, that he may be totally gone for this guy.

Jesus flicks a Starburst wrapper at Daryl's face, "Daryl? Are you there?"

Daryl turns to Jesus. "What?"

"You looked all spaced out for a second."

Daryl reaches over and grabs a few more Starburst. "Yeah...I was...just thinking about how good season three is." He nods at the TV.

Jesus smirks. "You're the biggest nerd I've ever met. Like seriously, the biggest."

Daryl smiles and nods. "Yeah, I was so popular in high school. You wouldn't believe. So many people wanted to kick my ass, I just couldn't keep up."

Jesus raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have kicked your ass in high school."

"Were you on the football team?"

"Yeah, so?"

Daryl laughs. "Then you would have totally kicked my ass!"

Jesus snorts. "That's such a cliché. Not every jock is a dick."

"The ones at my school were."

"Well, you should have come to my school. We would have been friends." Jesus flicks another wrapper at Daryl.

Daryl gathers up his own candy wrappers and throws them at Jesus, most of them fluttering down into his hair. "Really? I had a Star Wars backpack."

Jesus picks a couple of the wrappers out of his hair. "Every kid had a dumb backpack at one time or - "

"I was sixteen."

Jesus looks at him with a you're-kidding-right look.

Daryl laughs. "See? Ass. Kicked."

"I think I would've spoken to you for three minutes and decided you were cool. I'm sure I would've."

"You sound pretty certain about that."

Jesus nods. "You won me over within two minutes on the day I almost killed you with a box of towels."

Daryl glances at him. "Yeah, barely being able to string two sentences together without going red always works."

Jesus shrugs and turns back to the TV. "Worked for me."

Daryl can't think of a response to that and turns back to the TV. They watch in silence for a while.

"Hey, I need to run some errands tomorrow. Just like to the art store and the printers if you wanted to tag along," Daryl finally says, hoping it sounds as laid-back as it does in his head.

Jesus nods. "Sure. I have an appointment at eleven, but can come over after?"

Daryl smiles. "Cool." He looks at Jesus for a beat too long.

Jesus smiles. "What?"

"You've still got a candy wrapper on your head."

Jesus feels about and Daryl leans over to pluck it from his hair. Jesus turns towards him and Daryl gets a hint of lemon Starburst - fucking lemons - on Jesus's breath. He pulls away quickly and scrunches the wrapper up. Jesus is still looking at him, and Daryl flicks the wrapper and it hits Jesus on the cheek. He laughs and punches Daryl on the arm.

Daryl's phone vibrates on the table and he picks it up. There's an email from Negan with the script for the next issue.

Daryl groans. "I've gotta get back to work," he says and sinks back onto the couch.

Jesus chuckles. "So enthusiastic."

Daryl shakes his head. "Thumbnails wait for no man." He gets up off of the couch with an exaggerated groan. Jesus gets up too and walks him to the door.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" he says as he stands outside Jesus's apartment.

"Hopefully I wont be any later than twelve-thirty," Jesus says. "Hey, really...I...thanks." He looks up and Daryl gives him a shy smile.

"I meant what I said," Daryl says. "Anytime you want...in the middle of the night, whenever."

Jesus nods gratefully. "See you tomorrow, Daryl."

 

***

Daryl tries to call Michonne as soon as he gets back to his own apartment but it goes straight through to her very icy-sounding voicemail. He sends her a text instead.

DARYL: Can you call me as soon you get back? Nothing urgent but just really need to talk

He sits at his desk, leaning his chin on his hand, thinking about this afternoon. He watches as the light fades outside, city sounds making their way through the closed window. His phone vibrates.

JESUS: I really wish I'd known you in high school


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl steps out of the shower the next morning and hears his cell phone ringing in his bedroom. He grabs his towel and runs across the hall, slipping slightly on the wood floor, cursing loudly as he does, and picks up without checking to see who's calling.

"Hello?" he answers, out of breath, dripping water onto his bed.

"It's Michonne, what's wrong? What are you doing? I only just got your text."

Daryl catches his breath. "Hey Michonne. I just got out of the shower. Sorry, nothing's wrong. Can I call you back? I'm kind of naked and wet."

Daryl hears a bark of laughter from Rick on the other end.

"Have you got me on speakerphone?"

"Why would I not let Rick listen in? We're driving back and I only just got signal. Is everything okay?" She sounds genuinely concerned and Daryl sits down on his bed, drying his hair.

"Sorry Michonne, I didn't mean to make you worry. It's...it's Jesus related."

Rick says something and Michonne gives him a sharp shush. "You don't sound excited. I don't like this."

Daryl gives a small laugh. "No, everything's good, I think. I...how far away from home are you?"

Michonne gives a groan. "Well, if Rick hadn't just got distracted by something shiny and taken the wrong exit, we'd be about 35 minutes away."

"Well, YOU can fucking drive next time," Rick says.

"Was it the World's Biggest Yarn Ball, Rick?" Daryl asks and gets called a rude name in return.

Michonne sighs. "I'll Skype you as soon as we get back. Hopefully around nine o'clock?"

"Thanks Michonne. And don't worry, there's some good stuff."

"Neither of us are winning this bet anytime soon, are we?" Rick says.

 

***

 

Daryl gets dressed and reads Negan's email from yesterday.

Negan Stark (t.stark@Neganstark.com)  
To: Daryl Dixon (Daryln_Dixon@gmail.com), Michonne Grimes (n.Grimes@blackwidow.com), (Spencer.Monroe@falcon-comics.com)

Issue 6 script. Do me proud, babies. T

Daryl sighs and turns on his printer and makes coffee and cereal as the printer churns out Negan's script. His mind is still on yesterday; finding out about Jesus's arm and his friend, Jesus seeming so desperate to tell him without actually telling him. He thinks of the smell of lemon on Jesus's breath and how easy it would have been to run his hand through Jesus's hair instead of grabbing that candy wrapper. He takes off his glasses and rubs his face, taking a deep breath. It's too early in the morning to start getting himself worked up about things he may or may not be reading too much into.

The printer stops and Daryl gathers the papers together, ready to read through and make notes in preparation of drawing up roughs.

He looks up as a Facebook message bloops.

SPENCER: Hey Daryl - sorry for the FB message. Comps in the office are down - on my phone. Did you get the new script?

DARYL: Hey Spencer. Yep, just printed out

SPENCER: Cool! You at U-Con this weekend?

DARYL: Yeah, me, Michonne and Negan. You going?

SPENCER: Can't make this one but will be in NY for Vision Con - you there?

DARYL: It's in my backyard, so yeah

SPENCER: Look forward to finally meeting you in person!

DARYL: I'm a lot shorter IRL than I sound over the phone

SPENCER: Yeah, well that doesn't make you any less of an awesome artist :P

DARYL: Should have issue 6 thumbnails to you soon

SPENCER: No rush, man. Enjoy the con

DARYL: Thanks Spencer

Daryl puts on some music and starts to read, jotting down notes as he goes. As much of an egotistical dick as Negan can be, he really can write a great story and Daryl has to admit that this is the best project he's ever worked on. He reads the script through again, already excited by some of the images that are coming to mind. He staples the pages together and reaches for some blank sheets of paper. A call comes through on Skype and Daryl drops the paper and answers.

"Hey Michonne."

Michonne huffs and Daryl hears her pull her chair in to her desk. "We're back! I'm unpacking later, Rick just got called into work so he's pissed and I just got Negan's email which I'll read only when I have to. Okay. I'm good."

"So how was the lake house?" Daryl asks.

"Sweaty, sexy and a bit boring because Rick slept through most of the weekend. I did see a raccoon fall down some steps though, so it wasn't all bad."

Daryl laughs and pushes his pens about on his desk. "You have the BEST vacations."

Michonne snorts. "I should have taken some work with me." She pauses and her voice is softer when she speaks again. "Okay, so what's going on?"

Daryl takes off his glasses again. He presses the heel of his hand into his forehead, unsure of how to start. "Jesus was in the military. Afghanistan. He lost his arm and his friend died."

Michonne is silent for longer than usual. "Fuck. That's...fuck, Daryl."

Daryl flounders helplessly. "I know. I feel so...you should have seen him. He was building up to it, to telling me and I just wanted to...I told him he could talk to me if he wanted. I feel so... all I can do is listen to him." He exhales.

"Well, he wanted to tell you and he did. He trusts you, by the sound of it," Michonne says.

"Yeah," Daryl says quietly. "I wish I could do something more though."

"What could you do, other than just be there? You're not a psychiatrist. You've never been in the army. Maybe you just need to be you."

Daryl gives a bitter laugh. "Yeah, to play video games and obsess over dumb movies and tell him what comics are cool." He's never felt more useless in his life.

"Exactly," Michonne says firmly. "Maybe that's what Jesus wants, did you ever think of that? Maybe he just needs a totally sweet, honest dork to feel normal around. I mean, normal isn't the best word but you know what I mean. To not feel like the-guy-who-lost-an-arm."

Daryl sits for a moment. "He...he did say that when he hangs out with me, he forgets about...the other stuff."

"So there you go," Michonne says smugly. "He likes you, Daryl. I mean, there isn't much NOT to like."

Daryl smiles sadly and shakes his head. "Michonne..."

"Although, you really do need to get out more. And your hair kind of sucks..."

"Hey!"

Michonne laughs, but not meanly. "Seriously, he seems like he needs someone like you in his life. He wouldn't have told you about himself otherwise, right? Whatever you're doing, it sounds like it's helping him, even if it's just a little bit."

"Is it...is it selfish that, even though he's been through all of this shit - that he's obviously STILL going through a lot - that... I just want him to like me?" Daryl's voice is small. "Does that make me a terrible person?"

Michonne's voice is hard and honest. "Daryl, you couldn't be selfish if you tried. You liked Jesus before you knew about his arm, right?"

"Yeah."

"And all you can think about now you know what happened to him is wanting to help and support him? Yeah, so selfish."

"You know what I mean, Michonne."

"Yes, I do and I'm trying to convince you that you're not a horrible person. You're not selfish for wanting another human being to find you desirable."

Daryl takes a breath. "But what if I accidentally...I don't know, trigger something? Say the wrong thing?"

"That's pEugeneably going to happen, I mean, you don't know what he's been through or how he really feels, but you're going to end up saying the right things too," she says gently.

"I mentioned that panic attack I had in Phoenix and he opened up," he replies, folding the corner of a piece of paper over.

"There you go," Michonne says and he can hear her smiling. "So, you said there was good stuff too. Gimme."

Daryl gives a run down of the weekend. She gasps at the lemon Starburst. "Fucking lemons, dude! You sound like you're getting a bit more confident in your ways, at least," she says and Daryl can hear her opening a packet of something.

"He's coming with me to the art store in a couple of hours after I asked him. It's a start, I guess."

Michonne makes a sobbing noise. "My little Daryl is growing up!"

Daryl groans and buries his face in his arms. He mumbles something.

"I can't hear you!"

Daryl props his chin on his forearm. "I said he's funny and so fucking cute and he cheats at Battleship and he's just...he makes me feel really good about myself."

"You could certainly do with more of that. You never got this way about that Dwight guy."

"I've never met anyone like Jesus," Daryl says, his voice laced with longing.

"Sounds like he's never met anyone like you either," Michonne offers and Daryl want to hug her so badly. It's times like this that he hates the distance between them and feels so damn lucky to have her as a friend. Michonne, who always knows the right thing to say, who teases him endlessly but, he has no doubt, would drop everything in a heartbeat and come to New York the Spencere day if he needed her to.

He sits up again. "I guess I can only see how things go. I'm not even sure he likes...boys..."

"He seems to like you; maybe it doesn't matter which way he swings."

Daryl hums and picks up Negan's script. "Have you read the new script yet?"

Michonne crunches on something. "No, I'm saving it for when I need something to read on the toilet."

Daryl snickers. "It's actually really good. I've already got some cool ideas; we'll talk when you read it - I think we can run with some awesome colour themes."

"Sounds good," Michonne says. "I'll email you the pencils for my cover too; I need an expert opinion."

"So why are you sending it to me?"

"Hur hur hur," Michonne says goofily. "Oh god, I just got an email from Rosita Espinosa, hang on..." There's silence for a beat then Michonne gives an infuriated cry. "I don't fucking believe it - more changes!" Daryl hears something hit the floor.

"She's at U-Con this weekend," Daryl says. "Maybe you could talk to her?"

"I'd rather shove my Wacom stylus up her tight butt but I bet there's already a huge stick in there."

Daryl breaks into gales of laughter. "Oh wow, now there's an image! Sometimes I regret having such a good imagiMichonneion."

"I would initially be against you thinking about me in that context but I know you only get off on thinking about guys shoving things up their butts."

Daryl flushes a nuclear shade of red. "Oh my god, Michonne!" he cries out and buries his face in his hands.

Michonne shrieks with laughter on her end, knowing full well that she's embarrassed Daryl beyond belief. "And now I know which guy you want to shove - "

"DON'T! Don't say another word or I swear I'll hang up and never speak to you again."

Michonne can't stop laughing and manages at one point to say, "You're too easy to wind up, Dixon!"

Daryl throws a few choice insults at her and she eventually calms down.

"Oh, Lori can print your stuff for the con; I'll bring it with me on Thursday."

"Thanks Michonne," Daryl says. "Glenn wants to know if we want to meet up on Thursday night."

Michonne claps. "Hell yes! Me and Rick can't wait to get a certain comic book artist piss-drunk on Captain Morgan's again...," she sing-songs.

"Not you too! That was what Glenn said!"

Michonne laughs. "Daryl, you get smashed-out-of-your-face drunk like once a year and when you do it's hilarious and you have a great time. Until you throw up."

"And cry," Daryl adds sullenly. "Don't forget the crying."

"We'll make sure we're ready this time. Honestly, we're all prepared to buy your drinks all night just to see Captain Dixon. How many friends would do that?"

"I'm such a lucky guy," Daryl says with mock joviality.

Michonne giggles. "Okay, I need to sort out this Espinosa shit. Let me know if anything good happens on your art store trip."

"I will, Michonne. I really missed you the last couple of days."

"Missed you too, Daryl. Bye."

She hangs up and Daryl gives a stretch. He feels a lot better after having spoken to Michonne. He stares out of the window again, something he seems to be doing more and more lately. He sees a couple walking on the other side of the street, hand in hand, laughing easily. Daryl's never had that; he's always getting in his own way, too worried about the what-ifs to just take a chance.

Daryl puts his music back on gets back to work, thinking about what Michonne said, about Jesus needing someone like Daryl. He hopes it's true.

Jesus texts him at 12:15pm.

JESUS: On my way back, should be about 20 minutes?

DARYL: Cool - see you soon

Daryl flips through his portfolio and tucks his memory stick inside. He finds his checklist and tucks it in his back pocket. He feels happier, lighter. Twenty minutes and he'll see Jesus again.

***

Daryl lets Jesus in when he knocks at 12:45pm. He's wearing the army jacket and baseball cap he had on the other day, both hands in his pockets. He has a days worth of stubble on his face. He looks like he has slept though and Daryl feels relieved.

"Let me just grab my stuff," Daryl says and shoves his sketchbook into his bag. Jesus follows him in, closing the front door with his foot.

"Is it okay if we stop by the sandwich place at the end of the block? I'm starving. I need to eat something the size of my own head."

"Sure," Daryl says. "How was your appointment?"

Jesus leans against Daryl's desk, watching as Daryl shuts down his laptop and nods. "Yeah, it was actually...really good."

Daryl closes the lid of the computer and looks at Jesus. "How are you?" he asks, hand resting on his portfolio.

Jesus looks at the floor for a moment, then turns to look at Daryl with a small smile. "Better than I have been for a while."

Daryl smiles back, wanting to see Jesus smile like that every day if he can possibly make it happen. "Let's go."

 

***

They both walk down the street eating sandwiches, Jesus laughing as Daryl constantly drops pieces of pastrami on the sidewalk, leaving a meaty trail behind him.

"How are you managing to not get any of that in your mouth?" Jesus says as he finishes his own sandwich and balls up the wrapper.

"Look how huge this thing is. My mouth obviously isn't as big as yours." Jesus nudges into him and another piece falls down onto Daryl's sneaker. He curses at Jesus, trying to stop his portfolio from slipping out from under his arm and not drop his sandwich at the Spencere time, making an urgent little noise.

Jesus reaches out and takes the portfolio from him, a bright smile on his face, as he tucks it under his right arm. He's walking with an easy swagger that somehow makes Daryl more feel more comfortable about himself. The relaxed confidence Jesus had the first day they met seems to be back and the more they walk, the more Daryl starts feels less awkward, less inclined to stare down at the sidewalk than he would if he was on his own. He had suggested that they walk the five blocks to the art store, bypassing the subway for obvious reasons and admitting with some shame that the bus gave him motion sickness. Jesus had been more than happy to walk and Daryl is now glad they did. There's no real plan, no rush and he feels like he could walk the length of the city with Jesus and not get tired.

"Thanks," Daryl says and manages to eat the rest of his sandwich without dropping any more of it.

"Oh hey, I read Hellboy last night," Jesus says.

"Oh yeah? What did you think?"

"I really like it. Creepy but I like how most of the stuff is based on folklore and stuff."

Daryl cracks a huge smile. "Oh, wait until you get to Conqueror Worm - that book is creepy is hell. I'll totally give you the rest. Did you read Planetary?"

"I started it; I get the feeling I need to be into comic books a bit more to get that one though?"

Daryl gives a little nod. "Yeah, maybe you do. I'd stick with it though, there's some good stuff. Global Frequency too."

Jesus stares ahead at the street. "I didn't think I'd enjoy them as much as I have, to be honest. I kind of only took them the other day because I thought it would make you happy."

Daryl ignores the flurry in his stomach. "Really?"

Jesus nods. "But like, Watchmen really got to me and I thought, well, Daryl obviously knows what he's talking about so I'll stick with it."

Daryl can only smile to himself.

They walk quietly for a bit and then Jesus indicates something up ahead. "Is it okay if we go into that bookstore for a sec? I just want to see if I can find something."

"Sure, I'm not in a hurry. As long as I can get to the printers before five-thirty, we can do whatever."

Jesus smiles and Daryl follows him into the bookstore. Jesus starts to head towards the back.

"Hey, I'll just be a minute. I want to see if they have a graphic novel in stock," Daryl says.

Jesus gives him a nod and heads towards the back of the store. It's not too busy, even though it's lunchtime, but there a few people milling about. Classical music that Daryl recognises but can't place plays softly over the speakers. He always forgets how much he loves the smell of bookstores. He swings quickly by the graphic novel section and checks for the latest volume of Angel and Faith but they don't have it. Maybe he'll see if Jesus wants to go to the comic book store with him later. He heads back and after a minute, finds Jesus leaning against a book shelf looking down at a book. Daryl sidles up beside him.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Yeah," Jesus answers, voice quiet. He chews on his bottom lip and holds out the book, open to a page. "Tim showed me this poem when we were first stationed. I haven't read it since I was discharged and my - it was suggested that I read it again."

Daryl takes the book and looks at the cover: The Poetry Of Alan Seegar. He reads the poem.

I have a rendezvous with Death  
At some disputed barricade,  
When Spring comes back with rustling shade  
And apple-blossoms fill the air—  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand  
And lead me into his dark land  
And close my eyes and quench my breath—  
It may be I shall pass him still.  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
On some scarred slope of battered Espinosa,  
When Spring comes round again this year  
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows ’twere better to be deep  
Pillowed in silk and scented down,  
Where Love thEugenes out in blissful sleep,  
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,  
Where hushed awakenings are dear…  
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death  
At midnight in some flaming town,  
When Spring trips north again this year,  
And I to my pledged word am true,  
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Daryl is silent for a moment and then looks up at Jesus. "Wow, that's...I'm not all that into poetry but that's pretty...incredible."

Jesus looks pained. "Yeah, Tim was really into poems - not that you'd know it by looking at him. He was always trying to get me to read stuff. I mean, I love books but poetry's never been my thing. I read it in high school because I had to, but he finally convinced me to read this one and it just...the guy who wrote it was killed in action in World War I. It was...it was Tim's favourite."

"I can see why," Daryl says softly and hands Jesus the book back. "You should buy it."

Jesus glances up at Daryl and gives him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

Daryl shakes his head. "You don't ever have to apologise to me."

Jesus looks up at Daryl and manages a smile. "Thanks." Jesus holds the book with both hands and nods towards the counter. "Are you getting anything?"

"No, they didn't have what I wanted. If it's okay, I'll look in the comic store later." He starts towards the cash desk and Jesus follows. Daryl thinks back to his conversation with Michonne this morning. Did he say the right things? He hopes so.

He steps over to a magazine rack while Jesus pays for his book and idly spins the display.

"Daryl?"

Daryl turns toward the voice and stops dead, frozen in place. Of all the timing. Of all the places he could be at this exact moment, in a city as big as New York. It's Dwight. He's stood a few feet away, looking smart in a tailored suit.

"Shit, I thought that was you!"

Daryl manages to speak, his voice slightly high-pitched. "Dwight, hi. How...how are you?"

Dwight steps closer and nods, still smiling. "Yeah, I'm good. How are you? Are you still drawing?"

Daryl is aware of Jesus stepping up beside him, waiting politely.

"I'm good, thanks." He can feel the slow, agonising burn of redness spreading up his neck, the anxiety already closing like a fist around his throat. Of all the times to run into Dwight Fucking Rumlow, the only guy he's dated in the last year. "Yeah...it's going really well, thanks..." He swallows, feeling like he's got a lump of concrete lodged in his windpipe.

Dwight doesn't seem to notice that Daryl is slowing burning into a red hot mess before him. "I meant to call, but law school kind of got in the way, but I thought about you a lot. You're looking really good."

Daryl squeaks out a thanks and Dwight glances at Jesus, still waiting patiently next to Daryl. "This is Jesus..." Daryl manages.

"Crap, I'm sorry," Dwight says and offers his hand. "I'm Dwight." Jesus tucks his book under his left arm, hand still in his jacket pocket, and shakes Dwight's hand with his right.

"Nice to meet you," Jesus says with a charming smile. Daryl looks down at the floor, hoping the feeling of utter mortification that has overwhelmed him isn't showing on his face. He glances up as Dwight lets go of Jesus's hand. Dwight gives Daryl an accepting little smile, looking quickly at Jesus and then back to Daryl.

"Well, it was great to run into you. I guess I'll see you around." He holds up a hand.

"Bye," Daryl says weakly and watches Dwight leave the store. He stands for a moment, hoping the redness in his face has receded.

"Shall we go?" he says finally, his voice strained, not looking at Jesus and starts to walk towards the entrance.

He all but stumbles into the fresh air, not wanting to look back. If Jesus didn't know that Daryl was gay before, he sure as shit must do now. If Jesus realises it, he doesn't show anything, just falls into step beside Daryl, watching him closely with an amused little grin on his face.

"So," he says casually, "who was that?"

Daryl watches the street. "That was Dwight," he says, voice thick, realising how his answer doesn't explain anything. He swipes a hand across his forehead, chiding himself for trembling slightly.

"A friend?" Jesus asks, and Daryl can hear concern creeping into his voice.

Daryl nods, barely aware of doing so. He's breathing harder than he'd like through his nose, feeling like an idiot for getting so worked up, trying hard to calm down and failing miserably. He knows he's over-reacting, that maybe Jesus doesn't even care, but his body and brain seem dead-set on working against him.

Jesus takes Daryl's arm and steers him towards Walgreens. "Wait here a sec, I need something."

He disappears inside while Daryl leans against the window taking a few deep breaths. Jesus returns a few minutes later with two bottles of water and a pack of Strawberry Twizzlers. He hands Daryl one of the bottles. He offers a little smile.

Daryl nods and takes the bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a few long gulps. He feels a bit better. "Thanks," he finally manages. Jesus hands him a Twizzler and Daryl takes it.

"So," Jesus says, "let's get to the art store." He starts to walk away and Daryl follows, falling into step beside him, feeling embarrassed and ridiculous. He chews his Twizzler miserably.

"I was thinking," Jesus says after a while, "that we could get take-out on our way home and play some Mario Kart?" He glances at Daryl. "If you want."

Daryl looks at Jesus, not sure what kind of expression he's expecting on Jesus's face. But all he gets is a reassuring smile, those amazing eyes soft and unassuming. Whatever happened back there, Jesus seems to be saying without speaking, it doesn't matter. Daryl looks away first.

"That sounds great, Jesus," he says.

 

***

Daryl picks up Bristol Board and some new markers from the art store. Jesus looks bemused at the rows of pencils, paints, canvas and acres of paper.

"You know how to use all of this stuff?" he asks Daryl.

"Not everything. I used to paint a lot but I don't really get the time anymore." He picks up a new sketchbook.

Jesus reads some of the colours on a display of oil paints. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"A piece of paper and a pencil is as good a place as any," Daryl says. "I can give you some art stuff if you want to give it a go."

Jesus chuffs and shakes his head. "I'm not very arty. I'd lose patience pretty quick if I couldn't get anything to look good straight away."

"Well, that's why you practice."

"Nah, I've seen your stuff; I couldn't ever be as good as that." Jesus is playing with a couple of wooden art mannequins, making one kick the other up the butt. "There we go," he says. "That's a much better use of my time."

Daryl picks up a hand mannequin and folds down all but the middle finger, holding it up. "I could give you some lessons if you wanted? Just still-life stuff."

Jesus smiles and shakes his head. "Thanks, but even you would get pissed off with me."

"I doubt that," Daryl says and puts the hand mannequin back on the shelf, next to the figures, middle finger facing the aisle.

Jesus smirks. "How grown up are we?"

They leave the art store and head to the printers. There's a thirty minute wait for Daryl's stuff so they grab a coffee and pretzels from a vendor across the street, sitting on a bench and seeing who can attract the most pigeons with crumbs. Jesus starts to gloat triumphantly when he has seven pigeons to Daryl's five, so Daryl slides his foot out and two of Jesus's fly away.

"You douchebag. Never cheated, huh?"

Daryl looks at Jesus and says with mock seriousness, "You're obviously a very bad influence on me."

Jesus's eyes flit across Daryl's face. "Yeah?"

Daryl's breath catches for a moment and then he turns away and throws another piece of pretzel on the floor. "Ha! Now I've got eight! Oh and look, time's up." He stands up and all of the pigeons fly away.

Jesus gets up and snorts. "The game was over when YOU cheated, Mr Cheating-Is-Wrong."

Daryl holds his portfolio over his head and shouts, "I WON!"

An old couple walking by give Daryl the stink-eye and Daryl lowers his portfolio and gives them an apologetic nod as they walk off, mumbling and tutting.

Jesus starts to laugh. "Oh my god! I bet that's the first time you've ever raised your voice in public and you got totally owned by a couple of senior citizens!" He throws his head back and laughs hard, his right hand clutching at his stomach.

"Screw you," Daryl says but he's smiling and starts to laugh too. "I'm fucking useless," he says and kicks a stone into the garbage can next to the bench.

Jesus slings his right arm around Daryl's shoulders, still laughing. "You are, but in the best possible way." He starts to laugh again and leads them back across the street to the printers.

Daryl lets himself enjoy the warmth of Jesus's arm across his shoulders, Jesus's laughter vibrating though him. It's the best feeling in the world.

 

***

They head to the comic store next, Daryl promising to be quick. He finds the book he was looking for and pays, ready to head out when Jesus walks towards him, holding two comics. His comic.

"I think I'm going to buy these," he says.

Daryl looks flushed and realises he hasn't shown Jesus the actual issues, just the original pages. "You don't have to; I have them at my apartment."

Jesus shrugs. "If I'm going to get into all this stuff, I think the first comic I buy myself has to be yours." He indicates to the two sales assistants who are at the counter bagging and boarding comics. "Do they know you draw this?"

Daryl shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. I mean, if they did they would have said something. I've been in here a million times and there are a few photos of me online at comic cons so I'm sure they would have mentioned it."

"Why don't you say something? I'm sure they'd be blown away."

Daryl shakes his head again, vehemently. "No, I wouldn't want to..."

Jesus gives Daryl an unbelieving look. There's fondness in it too, though. "Aren't you proud of yourself?"

"Yes," Daryl says, "but I'm not...I don't like the...attention..." He trails off and Jesus nods with understanding.

Jesus walks up to the counter with the comics and Daryl picks up Rosita Espinosa's comic, mainly to look at Michonne's colouring again. He has all of the issues already but likes to look at them in the store, getting a little thrill every time he sees something by someone he knows. He gives a smile as he sees S.DIXON in small letters on a computer screen on page 6. He and Michonne always try to drop in little easter eggs for each other whenever they can. Rick's name has turned up in at least twelve comics that Michonne has worked on and he claims that's about as romantic as she gets.

"Oh hey, good choice," he hears one of the assistants say to Jesus. "Winter Soldier is a really great series."

"Yeah?" Jesus says, and Daryl can hear the smile in his voice.

"The guy who writes it is working on a sci-fi series for AMC. He's a genius," the other assistant says, gushing. Daryl groans inwardly.

"I actually know the guy who draws this," Jesus says to them and Daryl freezes up.

"Really?" The assistant with the deeper voice sounds incredulous. "You know Daryl Dixon?"

Daryl turns away slightly, but he can't help but listen. It's so weird to hear people talk about him like this. He reads the reviews that each issue of Winter Soldier gets and is always pleased that his work is praised, but since he's pretty much legally a (self imposed) hermit, he never hears anything other than mentions on comic book podcasts.

"Yeah," Jesus says, "he lives in the Spencere apartment block as me."

The two assistants laugh and one of them says "What the fuck!"

"Can you ask him to come in and do a signing for us? Our customers would go ape-shit!"

Jesus gives a little laugh. "They would?"

"Dude, look at the guy's art - it's amazing! Shit, I can't believe this. We have to get him to come in." The assistants start to babble about which comics Daryl has worked on that they would want to get signed for themselves.

Daryl can feel his neck start to go red, but this time he doesn't feel panic, just a strange giddy sensation.

The assistant with the lisp puts Jesus's comics into a plastic bag and hands them to him. "So what's he like?"

Jesus answers almost immediately. "He's a great guy."

Daryl puts the comic he'd been holding back onto the shelf and heads towards the door. He waits outside and shifts his portfolio from arm to arm when Jesus comes out of the store, a big smile on his face.

"Well, that was interesting," he says and starts to head off down the street, back towards home.

Daryl falls into step beside him. "Why did you do that?"

Jesus glances at him. "To see that look on your face, mainly."

Daryl looks down at the sidewalk. "That was weird," he mutters.

"But good weird, right?"

Daryl smiles and nods. "Yeah, it kind of was."

Jesus gives that crooked little grin, his eyes glancing sideways to Daryl. "Good."

 

***

They pick up some Chinese food on the way back and head up to Daryl's apartment. They sit on the floor leaning against the couch, food out on the coffee table and watch some Parks and Recreation. Jesus declares Ron Swanson the single best character ever created and Daryl suggests that they eat nothing but bacon from now on.

They play Mario Kart, both of them playing as dirty as possible now that cheating has been established. Jesus sMichonneches Daryl's controller from him at one point and sits on it, screeching gleefully as he wins the race, Daryl trying unsuccessfully to push Jesus over and retrieve it.

They finally quit at midnight and Jesus heads out.

"Hey," Daryl says before Jesus goes down the stairs, "I have a ton of work to do tomorrow, but if you want to just...come over and read comics while I work, you can. I mean, if you want to. I'll just be drawing and listening to music."

Jesus gives a pleased little smile. "That sounds good," he says and Daryl's heart leaps. "I'll come over after lunch?"

"Great. See you tomorrow," Daryl says and Jesus holds up a hand and whistles the Electrodrome track music as he heads down the stairs.

 

***

The next morning, Daryl sends Michonne a text.

DARYL: So much Jesus stuff to tell you about, I don't even know where to start

MICHONNE: Does any of it involve lemons?

DARYL: Not this time but I'm just nnnnggggggggg

MICHONNE: Save it up for Thursday; I'll need it by then. Up to my neck in shit.

DARYL: Everything okay??

MICHONNE: Yeah, design job with stupid deadline just came in. Good money though. I'll email my cover to you later.

DARYL: Cool. Good luck with the job

MICHONNE: Text me if anything gets shoved anywhere

DARYL: You're killing me

MICHONNE: :P

 

***

Jesus comes over after 12:30pm and hands Daryl back the graphic novels he's already read.

He holds up Global Frequency. "Think I'll read these now," he says.

"Drink?" Daryl asks.

Jesus shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good." He heads over to the couch and sits down. Daryl goes back to his desk and picks up his pencil, sneaking a glance over to Jesus. From here he can see part of his face when his hair doesn't fall forward. He bends his head down and starts to draw.

"Is the music okay? Not too loud?" He asks.

Jesus looks over. "No man, it's fine."

They sit in silence for an hour, Daryl feeling more productive than he has for a while. He flies through his work. Having Jesus in the room seems to be having a strange effect on him; maybe knowing that he's a few feet away rather than a whole floor means that Daryl has less room to pine. And he can also sneak looks when Jesus's head is down. He eventually stretches and lets out a groan, louder than he'd meant to.

"Everything okay over there?" Jesus asks, still reading.

"Yeah, I just forget how much I hunch over when I work." Daryl gets up and rolls his shoulders.

Jesus holds up Global Frequency Volume 1. "That fucked up story in here that you mentioned; was it the one about the cyborg guy?"

"Yes!" Daryl exclaims. "What did you think?"

"It was totally fucked up," Jesus answers, glancing over at him, the look on his face similar to the look he'd given Daryl after watching Society.

Daryl laughs. "Can I get you a drink now?"

Jesus runs his hands through his hair. "A soda would be good. Thanks."

Daryl goes into the kitchen and gets two cans and a bag of chips. He hands Jesus his soda and tosses the chips on the table. Jesus gets up and puts the two graphic novels back on Daryl's bookshelf.

Daryl heads to the bathroom. "You should carry on with Hellboy," he calls back into the living room before closing the door.

When he comes back, Jesus is still stood by the bookshelf, holding a few books, head cocked towards Daryl's laptop.

"What this?" he asks, indicating the music.

"Oh, it's a French guy called Perturbator. He does all of this awesome kind of retro electronic stuff. Michonne and Rick constantly harass me about liking it."

"This is amazing," Jesus says and puts the books down. He pulls a few little dance moves, similar to one he'd done on the first night they played Mario Kart.

Daryl gives an impressed little laugh. "Wow, how the hell did you learn how to move like that?"

Jesus dances across to Daryl, legs moving effortlessly, his good arm doing some insane Eugeneot-type movements.

Daryl laughs, eyes wide. "Holy shit, that's amazing!"

Jesus laughs and tucks his hair behind his ear. "I've picked a few moves up over the years."

"From who, Johnny Five?"

Jesus laughs again. "It's easier than it looks."

Daryl nods, his brow knitting in disbelief. "Oh yeah, I'm sure it is. Can you Moonwalk too?"

Jesus manages to Moonwalk about three feet before he trips slightly and snorts out a chuckle.

"I cannot believe that you can do that."

"Yeah, it's one of my better life skills. Come on, I'll show you some moves."

Daryl steps back. "No, no, no. I can't dance for shit."

Jesus puts his hand on his hip. "Everyone can dance a bit."

Daryl shakes his head again. "Not me. The best I can do is Sad Uncle Dancing."

"What the hell is Sad Uncle Dancing?" Jesus says, breaking into a fit of giggles.

Daryl rolls his eyes. "You know, at weddings, when you see the Sad Uncle trying to dance?" He does an embarrassed side to side shuffle that has Jesus doubled over with laughter.

"Oh man, that's exactly what I thought you were going to do!"

Daryl throws up his hands. "I told you."

"Look, start the track over and I'll just show you. If you learn the moves slowly, it's easier and then you can speed it up. If you want to." He gives Daryl a pleading look.

Daryl huffs and walks over to his laptop. "Fucking fine," he says and skips the track back to the beginning. He walks back over to Jesus, hands tucked under his armpits.

"Okay, let's get this over with."

Jesus stands to Daryl's left and starts to show him how to move his feet. Daryl follows along frowning, stumbling a couple of times, not quite succeeding it but not doing as badly as he thought.

"See, you're getting it," Jesus says. "Now you just put them together and up the tempo." He demonstrates, making it look simple and encouraging Daryl to try. Daryl sighs and tries to copy Jesus. He actually manages to look almost like he knows what he's doing.

"There! You can do something else besides the Sad Uncle Shuffle at least."

Daryl pushes his bangs out of his face and gives a pleased little laugh. "Okay, that wasn't as bad as I thought."

The track ends and another track starts up.

"Holy shit, are you kidding me? Elvin Bishop?" Jesus cries out. "I fucking love this song!"

Before Daryl can say anything, Jesus grabs Daryl by the hand, holding it up and resting his prosthetic arm on Daryl's waist and starts to move him about in an exaggerated waltz. Daryl can feel the heat spread across his face and puts his hand on Jesus's shoulder to steady himself, worried that he'll drag them both down if he trips up in Jesus's feet and loses his balance.

"Jesus..." he starts to protest, but Jesus just starts to sing loudly in his face.

"I must have been through about a million girls, I'd love 'em and I'd leave 'em alone..." His brow is knitted in false earnestness, his eyes wide.

He looks so utterly ridiculous that Daryl starts to laugh. Oh, what the hell...he thinks, and starts to sing along with Jesus on the chorus. Jesus's face breaks into a huge grin and they both start to sing louder, making their movements even more childish and pronounced, practically throwing each other around.

As they both start to wail the second verse, a loud banging comes from the wall nearest to Daryl's desk. Hobo Guy isn't very impressed, it would seem. This just makes them both laugh harder and sing louder and Jesus throws Daryl out in a twirl. Daryl almost falls down but Jesus pulls him back in, laughing hysterically and they both continue to howl along with the music.

The banging gets louder and more insistent and Daryl and Jesus respond by singing as loud as they can, making guitar noises when the solo kicks in. Tears are streaming down Daryl's face and Jesus is trying his best to keep upright. They're laughing too hard when the last verse kicks in and Daryl lets go of Jesus and crumples to the floor. Jesus points at Daryl and laughs hysterically and holds his side, trying to indicate that he has a stitch.

The banging eventually stops and Daryl manages to sit up, snorking and wiping his eyes.

Jesus holds out his right hand and pulls Daryl up. "Do you think he's going to come over and kick our asses?" he says, nodding towards the wall.

Daryl shakes his head, giggling. "No, he's a chicken shit. Banging on the wall is as far as he ever gets."

Jesus staggers to the side. "Oh man, I think I pissed myself a little bit."

This sends Daryl into another gale of laughter which only gets harder when Jesus starts to stumble towards the bathroom.

 

***

Daryl manages to get most of issue 6 thumbnailed while Jesus reads more Hellboy. He asks Daryl to put on Fooled Around And Fell In Love again, singing along to it in his normal singing voice, which is amazing and makes Daryl feel a little bit more than fuzzy inside.

At around 4:30pm, Jesus gets up and walks over to Daryl's desk. "Can I make you a cup of coffee or something?" he asks.

Daryl starts to push his chair out. "Oh, I can..."

"No, you carry on working. I'll do it." He heads into the kitchen. Daryl can't hold back a smile.

An email comes through from Michonne with her cover attached. It's incredible, as Daryl thought it would be and he tells her so, saying that if she doesn't get offered her own series after this, Daryl will set up an online petition.

Jesus comes back and puts a mug down on Daryl's desk. "How's it going?" he asks, pointing to the stack of paper next to Daryl.

Daryl takes the coffee gratefully. "Yeah, pretty good. I wanted to get a ton of work done before I leave on Thursday and I've finished a bit more than I thought I would."

Jesus takes a sip from his own mug. "I won't be able to hang out tomorrow. Got a...thing. Fucked up stuff." He glances down at Daryl.

"Anything I can help with?" Daryl offers softly.

Jesus smiles and shakes his head. "No, it's just something that's going to take a lot out of me. I won't be great to be around." He looks into his mug.

"If you need to call me, you can."

Jesus looks at Daryl the Spencere way he did on the park bench earlier, the way that made Daryl stop breathing for a split-second. Jesus swallows and looks away. "What time is your flight on Thursday?"

Daryl cleans his glasses on his shirt. "One-thirty. I'll pEugeneably be heading off at about ten. I'm kind of weird about getting to the airport on time."

Jesus turns back to him and smiles. "I'll come and see you before you leave."

 

***

Daryl makes a ton of macaroni cheese from a packet in the cupboard and they eat it whilst watching more Parks and Rec. Daryl's phone rings at about six-thirty. It's Rick. Jesus turns the volume down on the TV.

"Hey sailor," Rick says when Daryl answers.

"Hey yourself. How's it going?"

Rick growls. "Work is being a pain in my dick and Michonne is stressed out over some advertising job she needs to finish by tomorrow afternoon but other than that, it's all gravy."

Daryl snickers. "Are you guys set for Thursday?"

"That's why I'm calling. What time does your flight get in?"

"It's at one-thirty in the afternoon so about three-forty-ish, I think?"

"Cool. Our train gets in at two-fifteen. We'll come and meet you at the airport."

"You don't have to do that," Daryl says.

"Like hell we don't. You sir, are getting ravaged."

Daryl laughs. "I look forward to it."

Rick yawns. "So what are you up to?"

"Just hanging out, watching Parks and Recreation."

"Oh, just hanging out?" Rick says a bit too loudly and Daryl can hear scuffling in the background. "On your own?"

Daryl sighs. "No..."

"With Jesus?" Daryl can hear a snicker on the other end that is unmistakably Michonne.

"Yes..."

Daryl can see Jesus looking over at him from the corner of his eye.

"Dude, put him on. I want to hear if this guy is actually real."

"No!"

Rick huffs. "Just make him say hi and we'll leave you alone."

Daryl exhales through his nose and turns to Jesus. "Will you say hello to my friends? Just...grunt or something."

Jesus gives a confused little smile. "Sure."

Daryl holds out his phone.

"Hello, I guess?" Jesus says and Daryl quickly puts the phone back against his ear to smother out the excited noises from the other end.

"Okay, so I guess I'll see you guys on Thursday?" Daryl says loudly.

Rick is laughing. "Sure thing, Daryl. Take care, we can't wait to see you."

Daryl stifles a smile. "Yeah me too, you assholes." He hangs up.

Jesus lets out a laugh. "What the hell was that?"

Daryl rubs an eye. "They wanted to know if you were a real person and not something I'd made up. They're idiots."

"You told your friends about me?"

Daryl looks at Jesus, a little embarrassed. "Well, yeah."

Jesus smiles. "Okay." He turns the volume back up on the TV.

 

***

An hour later, and Jesus leaves, turning to Daryl with a smile that's a bit too bright and telling him that'll he see him on Thursday before his flight. Daryl watches him descend the stairs, wishing he had the courage to go after him and pull him close and just...

Daryl slumps down on the sofa, already not looking forward to even going one day without seeing Jesus, let alone three and a half days, but also hoping that everything will be okay with whatever thing it is that Jesus has to do. Daryl rolls over and stares at the ceiling. So much has happened in the last few days that he can't quite process it. Part of him almost doesn't want to go to Chicago now, when he could be here with Jesus instead. He closes his eyes and thinks of all the little points of contact Jesus has made over the last couple of days. Throwing his arm across his shoulder, dancing with him, ruffling his hair. Daryl can still feel his warmth, that faint smell of coconut which has to be from his shampoo. He swallows hard and opens his eyes.

He doesn't think he's going to get much sleep tonight.

 

***

Daryl spends the next morning packing. He manages to compress everything into one suitcase for the hold and his messenger bag. His portfolio will hopefully count as cabin luggage too. Michonne and Rick have one of his roller Rhees that they'll bring with them on the train. He has a Rhee for Michonne here to make flights a bit easier if she comes to a comic con in New York. He makes sure to pack the Funko Pop he bought for her last week and a DVD of Teen Wolf and Teen Wolf Too for Rick. He puts everything together by the front door and double checks his plane ticket, hotel details and the information for picking up his con pass on Friday. He still has a day but Daryl's anxiety means he has to get everything ready now and check it at least a million times between now and when he leaves tomorrow morning.

Daryl checks his emails; the guys from the podcast want to know if he can record with them next Tuesday. He says yes. He cleans the kitchen and then straightens up the rest of the apartment. His eyes fall on his graphic novel bookcase and he thinks that he should have given Jesus some more books for the weekend. He'll sort out a stack and give them to him in the morning.

He finishes the thumbnails for issue 6 and scans them in; he'll send them to Spencer in the morning.

He answers a few emails about his con sketch prices and how many slots he has left for drawings.

The day drags on.

 

***

At six-forty-five, he sends Jesus a text.

DARYL: Hey, hope everything went okay today

Twenty minutes pass before he gets a reply.

JESUS: Hey Daryl, sorry - was sleeping. It was pretty terrible but necessary. Tell you about it some other time. Having the last couple of days to think about kept me from flipping tables. I'll come to yours at 9.30 2mor?

DARYL: Sounds good. Take care, Jesus

Another ten minutes pass.

JESUS: I think I

JESUS: Thanks dude

 

***

Daryl puts a pile of books - four more volumes of 100 Bullets, a few volumes of Hellblazer and From Hell - next to his luggage. His checks his phone again - 9:10am. If anything, the flight is going to be the last chance he'll get to relax for three and a half days. He takes a few breaths and paces the apartment, checking the windows, the oven. He checks his phone again. 9:16am. Relief floods him when he hears a knock at the door.

Jesus looks tired and worn, his smile tight around the edges, the dark circles under his eyes worse than ever. Daryl is about to say hi when he notices Jesus's left arm. The sleeve of his hoodie is pinned up, stopping a few inches below his shoulder. Daryl meets Jesus's eyes.

Jesus smiles wanly and comes into the apartment. "Yesterday. Arm stuff. Much fun."

Daryl closes the door. "Can I get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm pretty much going to sleep all day." He sits on the couch, sagging slightly.

Daryl follows him over and sits down. "I sorted some more books for you, if you want them."

Jesus brightens slightly. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks." He goes to rub his left arm and swipes at thin air and the back of Daryl's couch instead, laughing bitterly when he realises what he's just done. He gives Daryl a stilted smile.

"Does it hurt?" Daryl asks softly.

Jesus looks at him, eyebrows knitting together in what looks like defensiveness for a second, but then eases into concentration as he considers. He looks far away for a moment. "Yeah...but it's not...it's like an itch I can never scratch. Even with the fake one...it's...you don't get used to it."

Daryl meets Jesus's eyes again and Jesus tucks his hair behind his ear. "Are you ready for the con?"

Daryl nods. "As I'll ever be."

Jesus kicks Daryl's leg with his own. "You'll be fine. I'm going to read your comics later. I wanted to save them for...after." He gestures vaguely to his left arm.

"I hope you like them. Michonne's colouring pretty much saves my artwork." He gives a self-deprecating laugh.

"Don't do that," Jesus says quietly. "Don't put yourself down all the time."

Daryl looks down for a moment. "I don't even realise I'm doing it." He doesn't look up. "Maybe you could kick my ass for me whenever I do?"

He looks at Jesus with a hopeful little smile. Jesus's face breaks into a tired, but genuine, grin. "Now that I can do."

They talk about video games and books for a while and then Daryl's phone alarm goes off. Fifteen minutes until his cab arrives. Jesus stands up.

"Come on, let's wait outside."

Daryl slings his bag over his shoulder and picks up his portfolio. Jesus tucks the graphic novels under his arm. Daryl drags his suitcase out into the hall and locks the door. They head downstairs and Jesus stops to put the books in his apartment. They wait on the sidewalk, both of them suddenly quiet.

"Hey, are you on Facebook? Michonne usually posts a ton of pictures from every con if you wanted to know what it's like."

Jesus shakes his head. "No, I don't do Facebook."

Daryl reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out his sketchbook. He tears a piece from one of the back pages and scribbles something on it. "Here; this is Michonne's Tumblr. Everything goes on there too. I don't think you have to join up. I don't update much on Twitter."

Jesus smiles and takes the paper. "I'll check it out."

They both look up as a cab heads their way.

"I think this is me," says Daryl as the taxi pulls in.

The driver opens his door. "Dixon?" Daryl nods and the driver put his suitcase in the trunk.

Daryl turns to Jesus. "I guess I'll see you?"

Jesus holds out his hand and Daryl shakes it. It's warm and firm and he doesn't want to let go. "Have a great time," Jesus says. Daryl lets go.

He gets into the cab and watches as Jesus walks back up to the apartment entrance, turning before he goes in and holding up his hand. Daryl holds his up in return as the cab pulls away. Daryl swallows hard and tries not to look back.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl gets to the airport stupidly early and grabs a seat in the farthest corner of a coffee place, out of the way, waiting for check-in. Keep busy, focus on little things, he tells himself. He updates his Twitter and Facebook with details of the con, texts Michonne and Rick to let them know he's on his way and then sketches for a while. He doodles a few new designs for upcoming characters in Winter Soldier, but his mind soon starts to drift and he puts his pencil down, resting his chin on his hand. He people-watches for a while; families coming and going, couples, businessmen. All heading somewhere, to someone. He feels his loneliest around other people.  
He thinks about how...used up Jesus looked this morning and he desperately wants to text him, but holds himself back. He's never fallen this hard so fast for someone before and it scares him a little bit. He tries not to think about it too much, to try and reign back his feelings because if rejection comes, it'll be that much worse. He tries not to dwell on Jesus's smiles towards him, his touches. Daryl takes a sip of coffee and gets back to his sketchbook.  
The time finally rolls around when he can check his bag in and then he heads off towards security. It's pretty straightforward and as Daryl puts his belt and sneakers back on, he starts to feel a bit more excited, mainly about seeing Michonne and Rick. He lets himself think about the curve of Jesus's jaw and the way he lets his hair fall into his face for a moment. He heads to the departure lounge and starts to draw again.

***

The flight is fairly uneventful. He ends up with a window seat in a row of three, and is about to sit down when a woman and her son, a cute little kid with scruffy brown hair and a plastic dinosaur under one arm, come to sit in the other two seats. Daryl offers to sit on the aisle seat so the little boy can look out of the window during the flight.  
"That's really kind of you," the woman says, "are you sure?"  
Daryl shuffles out of the way. "He'll pEugeneably get a lot more out of it than I will," he says with a smile.  
They land in Chicago slightly earlier than planned and Daryl texts Michonne before he heads through to pick up his bag. He gets a text back almost immediately.  
MICHONNE: HOLY SHIT WE'RE COMING WE'RE ON OUR WAY  
Daryl smiles. They're all staying in the Spencere hotel, booked for them by the con, with a few other artists and guests. Glenn is staying there and Daryl thinks Luke Cage is too, although Daryl hasn't met him before. His work is really great and Daryl hopes he'll have the time, and courage, to meet him and get a couple of books signed.  
He heads out of Departures and perches on a chair within easy view of the entrance, jiggling his leg nervously. He's sat for about fifteen minutes when his phone vibrates.  
JESUS: Hey, hope you got to Chicago okay  
DARYL: Hey! Just landed - waiting for Michonne and Rick. How are you feeling?  
JESUS: Tired, but slept pretty much all day until now. Bored out of my mind already  
Daryl gives an excited little smile. Maybe Jesus misses him.  
DARYL: Well, sure you are, 'cos I'm not there  
JESUS: Who am I going to play dumb-ass games with now?  
DARYL: Go see if Hobo Guy next door to me wants to play  
JESUS: Yeah, right. Maybe we could go get food when you come back on Sunday?  
DARYL: I'm there  
JESUS: :)  
Daryl starts to read the thread through again when he hears a high pitched "Steeeeeeeve". He looks up and groans, a huge smile on his face. Michonne and Rick are skipping hand in hand towards him calling his name childishly, not giving a shit about the dirty looks they're getting from other people in the terminal. He stands up and puts his hands on his hips, shaking his head. A few feet from him, they finally snap and come barrelling over, grabbing him in a double bear-hug and laughing loudly. Daryl can't help but join in, trying not to trip over his bags.  
They finally break away and Michonne gives him a proper hug, kissing him on the cheek. "God I missed you, dork."  
Daryl hugs back. "I missed you too. You cut your hair."  
Michonne steps back and tucks a strand behind her ear - it's shorter than the last time he saw her, falling just below her ears. "Yeah, I don't know if I like it."  
"It looks really good," says Daryl and Michonne gives him a pleased smile.  
"Hey, what am I, chopped man-meat?" Rick grabs Daryl and pulls him in, kissing him on top of the head. "How you doing, Daryl?"  
Daryl claps Rick on the back and pulls back, beaming. "Really good now I'm here. Nice jacket. Purple, huh? That's a...brave colour choice."  
"Oh, you wanna go there?" Rick says, laughing.  
Michonne throws an arm around Daryl's shoulder and grabs his suitcase. "Come on, we'll get you checked into the hotel, give you a haircut and then we're going to meet Glenn at that awesome burger bar place we went to last time."  
"Cool, I was - wait, what? Haircut?"  
Michonne hurries on. "Now hear us out. We think you'd so look amazing without the emo bangs - "  
"I am NOT emo!!"  
" - and we have a style in mind that's easy and sexy and you'll totally have a cute picture to text to Jesus..."  
Daryl holds up both of his hands. "Michonne, there's no way I am letting you cut my hair."  
Michonne makes a face. "Duh, I'm not cutting it."  
Rick ruffles Daryl's hair. "Snip snip."  
"Come on, Rick. You are NOT cutting my hair." Daryl looks wildly at them both.  
"Hey, who do you think did mine?" Michonne says. "Just trust us, okay?"  
Daryl whines as they hail a taxi outside of the terminal.

***

Daryl is on the Spencere floor of the hotel as Michonne and Rick and as soon as he puts his stuff down on the double bed they grab him and drag him to their room.  
"I can't believe you guys are doing this me. I've only been in Chicago for an hour!" He's sat on the toilet in their bathroom, glasses resting on the toilet tank with a towel around his shoulders, hair dripping wet where Rick shoved him unceremoniously under the shower spray.  
Michonne is sat on the edge of the bath. "Look, all we're going to do is cut it a little shorter and gel it up a bit - "  
"You didn't mention anything about GEL," Daryl cries, and Rick throws a towel over his head and gives Daryl's hair a vigorous rub, both of them ignoring Daryl's muffled protests.  
Rick throws the towel in the bath and tilts Daryl's head back, combing through his hair. "Now try not to move; I can't guarantee that I wont get your ear by mistake."  
Daryl sighs. "You two are bullies. You do realise this is bullying, right? I had gifts for you guys but I don't think I want to give them to you now."  
Michonne waves a hand. "We're helping. You wouldn't have agreed to it if we had ASKED you."  
Daryl's voice is loud. "So you bullied me into it instead!" He makes a helpless noise as Rick starts to cut, strands of blond hair falling to the floor.  
Daryl finally resigns himself to it and listens as Michonne recounts the whole Rosita-Espinosa-Anal-Colour-Change incident. "I'm not getting paid enough for this shit," she sulks.  
Daryl gives a little laugh. "Didn't anyone tell you? We're not in it for the money - we're in it for the artistic thrills."  
Michonne scowls. "She's a control freak. I don't even know why I'm working on the fucking book. I get no say in anything whatsoever."  
Rick laughs. "Man, I'm glad I just get paid to fix hard drives and pretend I know how to program HTML." He leans in front of Daryl and measures the length of his hair on the sides.  
Michonne snorts. "You're too dumb for anything else."  
"I am but a simple man. With a big penis. So hey, Daryl, speaking of penises: You and Jesus. How's that going?"  
Daryl flushes but doesn't have anywhere else to look that isn't directly at Michonne or Rick. "I think it's going okay. I don't know."  
Michonne gives a smirk and raises an eyebrow. "Come on - spill."  
Daryl recounts the last few days, but leaves out the part from this morning with Jesus's arm.  
"Are you going to say anything to him?" Michonne asks.  
Rick bends Daryl's head down and trims the back. "No, because I don't know if anything is ACTUALLY happening...I just...can we talk about this later?"  
"Fine," Michonne says sulkily. "But if you ask me, SOMETHING is happening."  
Rick straightens up, running his hands through Daryl's hair and nods. "Okay, I think we're pretty much done." He holds his hand out towards Michonne. "Nurse, hand me the lube. I mean, gel."  
Daryl frowns at Rick. "Where did you even learn how to do this?"  
"Budapest," Rick answers without any further explaMichonneion. Daryl looks at Michonne and she gives a conspiratorial shrug. Daryl sighs. Rick rubs some gel into his hands and runs it through Daryl's hair, tweaking the front.  
"Okay," Rick says, stepping back and assessing, "I've kept your lame side-parting - don't give me that look - but now you just have a little bit of style going on." Michonne makes an excited peep when she sees Daryl's hair.  
Daryl puts his glasses back on and brushes the hair off of the back of his neck and drops the towel around his shoulders onto the floor, swiping more hair from the front of his t-shirt.. "I'm dreading this..." he breathes as he looks in the mirror. But, it's...not bad. His hair is shorter, swept to the side and up at the front a bit and without his bangs, his eyes are big and blue behind his glasses.  
"Huh," he says.  
Rick folds his arms. "Daryl, you look pretty hot."  
Michonne rolls her eyes. "Jeez, should I leave you two alone?"  
Daryl runs his hand through his hair at the back. "It kind of looks better."  
Rick hands Daryl the pot of gel. "See? We told you. You look great. You're a handsome guy, Daryl."  
Daryl blushes and drops his gaze. "No, I'm..."  
Michonne stands up and drapes an arm across Daryl's shoulder and pecks his cheek. "You really are. Now, take a picture and send it to Jesus."  
"No way. I don't do selfies and it'll just be weird to send him a photo saying "Hey, check me out." No."  
Michonne and Rick groan. "Okay, fine. Give me your phone."  
Daryl knows he's not going to win this one so he hands it over with a frown. Michonne fiddles with the camera and stands behind Daryl with Rick. "Okay, so the three of us are in it and you can be all like "they made me do it." How's that?"  
Daryl mutters under his breath and Michonne takes that as a victory. She holds the phone out in front of Daryl, pulling Rick in closer.  
"Okay, everybody say I-Want-Your-Body-Jesus!" Michonne snaps the picture. She shows it to Rick and he laughs.  
"That's so awesome. I want a copy of that."  
Michonne hands the phone back to Daryl and grabs Rick by the sleeve, leading him out of the bathroom. "Come on, " she calls, "let's get hammered."  
Daryl looks at the photo; he's stood in front of Michonne and Rick, looking put out, frowning and doing what Michonne calls his Jaw Thing, while they make goofy faces and rabbit ears behind him. He can't hold back a smile; it's a pretty awesome photo. After a moment of hesitation, he texts Jesus and attaches the picture.  
DARYL: And this is what happens when I get together with Michonne and Rick  
He hits send and nervously puts his phone back into his pocket, giving himself one more glance in the mirror, for once not hating what he sees. He follows Michonne and Rick out of their room, grabbing his jacket.

***

Glenn whoops when they all come into the bar, and gets up from the booth he's been saving, hugging Michonne and doing some weird handshake with Rick. He smiles wide when he sees Daryl and gives him a hug.  
"Hey, great to see you man! Whoa, great hair cut!"  
Michonne and Rick both push Daryl and say, "See?" at the Spencere time.  
Glenn laughs. "Oh, okay. That's creepy. You two have been together way too long."  
Daryl gives a self-conscious little smile. "Rick did this," he says, pointing to his head.  
"Get the fuck out of here," Glenn says.  
Rick smirks. "I'm a man of few talents. One of which happens to be hairdressing."  
Glenn laughs and they all sit down, Daryl sliding in next to Glenn and Michonne and Rick sitting opposite. The bar is busy and loud and usually, Daryl would start to feel uncomfortable and anxious but he feels good at the moment, a mixture of being with his friends and liking his new haircut. The anticipation of wondering if Jesus will say anything about it is also sending his nerves in a different direction.  
Michonne grabs a menu. "I hope they still have that Jack Daniels burger from before." Rick makes a noise of agreement.  
Daryl quickly checks his phone while the others talk about whether or not burgers should come with the option to be rare. There's a reply from Jesus.  
JESUS: Wow, your hair  
DARYL: They forced me into it  
JESUS: It was a good move  
Daryl feels a buzz run through him and quickly tucks his phone away.  
When the waitress comes to take their order, Glenn insists on paying for everything, after a lot of protesting from everyone else, and tells them to order whatever drinks they want. Michonne gets two mojitos, Rick orders three beers. Daryl asks for a rum and diet coke and the others all clap and cheer.  
Glenn flashes the waitress a smile. "Make that three rum and diet cokes." When Daryl shakes his head and looks back down at the menu, Glenn mouths "doubles" to the waitress and she nods and hides a smile. They all order burgers and sit back, catching up on things that have happened since the last con they were all together. Their drinks come and Michonne and Rick both hide grins when Daryl takes a sip of one of his and doesn't notice that it's a double. Their food comes and Michonne makes overly sexual noises as she eats her burger.  
"How come you never make those kind of noises with me?" Rick says, dropping his pickle onto Michonne's plate.  
"Man, I wish I got to see you guys more than three times a year," Glenn says, when they're done. "Why do you all live so far away?" Glenn lives in California.  
"You should all come and live in New York," Daryl says, reaching across to eat the rest of Rick's fries. He's feeling slightly fuzzy but good. He thinks he must be a lightweight if he feels like this after only two and a half drinks.  
Glenn hisses. "You have winter in New York - no thanks."  
Glenn orders another round of drinks and they all start to let go. Michonne grabs Daryl's phone and starts taking pictures. Rick buys a round of shots, making Daryl take two. Daryl, usually photo shy, doesn't seem to mind so much as Michonne takes pictures and actually poses with Glenn for a few. Daryl is becoming more and more animated with each drink, using his hands to punctuate the smallest things, talking a mile a minute about crap and Michonne and Rick are desperately trying not to crack up too much, Michonne taking photos of everyone, while Glenn giggles wickedly.  
Daryl suddenly realises, as he starts to sing along loudly to the music in the bar - something he NEVER does - that he's a bit more far gone that he was about twenty minutes ago and holds up his hands, pointing at the empty glasses in front of him, frowning. He grabs Glenn's arm. "Wait, wait, wait...," he says.  
"Captain Dixon is in the house," Glenn says, punching the air with his fist.  
Daryl blinks at the empty glasses before him, hand still clutching Glenn's arm. "You did something, you fuckers..." His voice is slurring.  
Glenn slaps him on the back. "What's a few doubles of rum and coke between friends?"  
Daryl squints and looks up at Michonne and Rick, which sends them into gales of not-too-sober-either laughter.  
Daryl shakes his head and stands up. "I need to take a piss, but when I get back, we're all going to have...words."  
He hears them all laugh again as he wobbles off, glancing his hip off of a table a few feet from theirs. As he sways at the urinal in the bathroom, trying to order his thoughts, he thinks, God, I want Jesus so badly. He pats his pockets for his phone, intending to text Jesus and let him know, but remembers that Michonne has it. He zips himself up, makes a concentrated effort to wash his hands and heads back to the table.  
Glenn has another drink waiting for him, beaming over his own beer. "There you go, Captain."  
Daryl sits down heavily. "You're all so mean to me." Glenn slings an arm around Daryl's shoulders.  
"Daryl, we all love you and we love seeing you drunk. You're always so quiet and nice, it's funny when you act like a normal person."  
Daryl shrugs Glenn away and makes a grabby hand at Michonne. "Give me my phone," he says and Michonne instantly makes a suspicious face.  
"Why?"  
Daryl's mouth moves before his brain has a chance to follow. "Because I want Jesus...I mean I want to...I need Jesus. To call Jesus." He's finding it hard to get his words out in the order he wants them.  
Michonne holds his phone to her chest. "Oh no, no, no!!"  
"Michonne, give it!"  
Glenn looks confused. "Who the hell is Jesus?"  
Rick leans on the table, grinning. "Some guy that Daryl is madly in love with."  
Glenn laughs. "I thought he was talking about a dog or something. What kind of a name is Jesus?"  
"It's his middle name nick-name," Daryl says, stumbling over his words again, and he reaches over the table, knocking over three empty beer bottles, trying to get his phone from Michonne.  
"Daryl, you are not calling Jesus in this state because it will be a HUGE mistake which you will regret. Therefore, I will be holding onto your phone until you are sober." She looks like she's enjoying herself and takes a photo of Daryl stood up over the table with an incredulous look on his face, arm still reaching, cheeks flushed.  
"Fine," he sMichonneches up Glenn's phone. "I'll call him on Glenn's cell!"  
Glenn tries unsuccessfully to grab his phone back from Daryl.  
Michonne takes a swig of her mojito. "Go ahead."  
Daryl stares at Glenn's phone for a minute before putting it back on the table with a frustrated howl. "I don't know his number in my head."  
Rick laughs and says "lame" and Glenn slides his phone away from Daryl. "I get the feeling that I've been missing out on some major action. What's with this Jesus guy?"  
Daryl lets out a sad moan and slumps back into the seat sagging slightly to the left. "Jesus's amazing," he says, "he's so funny and he dances like a Eugeneot."  
Rick snorts. "He's got it pretty bad."  
Glenn snickers. "I can see that."  
Daryl leans forward onto the table, like he's about to let them all into a secret and they all lean in with him, faces grinning expectantly. "I just want to...want to..."  
He let's rip with a string of extremely explicit things that he wants to do to Jesus and Michonne shrieks almost spilling her drink. Rick sits back, eyes wide, covering his ears and Glenn claps a hand over his mouth, laughing hysterically.  
Michonne is clutching her middle, sobbing with laughter. "Daryln Dixon! I honestly didn't know you had it in you! Oh my god! There's us thinking you're so sweet and innocent. Jesus!"  
Rick points at Daryl. "I never want to have those mental images of you ever again, I don't care who it's with."  
Daryl sits back and makes a face, giving a dismissive wave of his hand to Rick. "I bet you do them."  
Glenn is still laughing. Michonne holds up the camera, set on getting as many photos of Captain Dixon as she can. Daryl looks far away for a moment.  
"But I just want to suck his - " They all shout in unison and Glenn lunges across to clamp a hand across Daryl's mouth before he can finish as Michonne snaps another picture and Rick starts making loud la-la-la noises.  
Glenn pulls Daryl into a hug, his hand still over Daryl's mouth. "Oh Daryl, dear sweet filthy Daryl." Daryl tries to pull Glenn's hand away and Glenn says he will, if Daryl promises not to say anything else. Daryl nods and Glenn lets go.  
Rick gets up, shaking his head. "I'm getting Daryl some water."

***

They head off to another bar so Rick and Glenn can play pool, Daryl weaving along besides Michonne, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without leaving the sidewalk and heading off into the street. They find a place down the block that is quiet and Michonne steers Daryl to a booth near the back.  
"How are you sober and I'm not?" Daryl complains as he manages to somehow knock his own glasses off.  
"Because I can handle my booze, Dixon, and you can't. Now stay," she commands as he slides across the seat and she heads to the bar.  
Daryl leans his head against the wall. The giddy effects of the rum are starting to turn into self-pity and regret, coupled with his head feeling like he's in a centrifuge and he lets out a low whine to himself, not feeling too good.  
Michonne comes back with a pitcher of water and two cups of coffee. "Okay, we're going to make sure we don't have a repeat of last year." She pours a glass of water and makes Daryl drink two in front of her.  
Daryl sighs and rubs his eyes. "Please don't tell Jesus what I said."  
Michonne gives a little laugh. "What are you talking about?"  
Daryl looks down at his coffee. "About what I want to do to him."  
"Daryl, if I hadn't commandeered your phone, you would have done that all on your own and made a huge mess. Why would I even think about doing that?"  
Daryl looks down at the table, drunk and confused. "I don't know..."  
Michonne edges up to him with a sigh. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. Daryl, I'm not going to call the guy you like and tell him stuff. I'm not THAT mean."  
"I'm sorry," Daryl says frantically, "I didn't mean - "  
Michonne puts an arm around him. "I know what you meant. You're a terrible drunk, Daryl."  
"I feel bad for saying those things when he's...you know..." Daryl gestures something that Michonne can't quite decipher. "It was so disrespectful."  
Michonne makes a sad little noise and shakes her head. "Daryl, only YOU could be blind stinking drunk and still think you were being disrespectful to someone. You are adorable."  
Daryl rests his head on Michonne's shoulder and says, his voice barely a whisper, "I want Jesus so badly." She rubs his arm. "I know you do. Come on, drink some more water."  
Rick and Glenn come over to the table after three games of pool, grimacing at Daryl slumped next to Michonne.  
"He's not still talking about putting things in places that I don't want to imagine things going, is he?" Rick asks.  
"Oh dear," says Glenn. "Captain Dixon has crashed and burned."  
Daryl gives Glenn the finger and a pathetic scowl. "This is your fault." He takes a gulp of coffee and burps.  
Rick gives a snort. "I guess that's you done drinking for the year then?"  
Daryl groans and slumps onto the table. "I can taste my own stomach."  
Michonne pours Daryl some more water and Daryl starts to protest. "Shut up and drink it. You'll feel really bad in the morning if you don't and I know you don't want to have a hangover AND have to talk to Negan Stark."  
Daryl groans louder.

It's late when they get back to the hotel. Glenn gets off of the elevator on the third floor and blows Daryl a kiss as the door shuts. Michonne and Rick get Daryl to his room and it takes Daryl ten minutes to convince them that yes, he can take his own clothes off and get into bed without setting himself on fire or something. Michonne gives him quick a hug and hands him his phone back only after he absolutely promises not to text or call Jesus and Rick punches him lightly on the shoulder. As he unlocks his door, he watches the two of them walk off down the hall, Rick sliding his arm across Michonne's shoulder and kissing her on top of the head. She winds a hand around Rick's waist and leans into him and Daryl feels a twinge in his chest. He goes inside and forces himself to drink another three glasses of water in the bathroom, his head spinning slightly less than it was earlier. He checks his phone, but there's nothing.  
He undresses and all but passes out on the bed.

***

Daryl blinks awake; his phone is ringing and he rolls across the bed, to answer it. The time on the bedside clock says 8:48am.  
"Wha?" he manages before the pounding in his head starts. He lets out a moan. He takes a drink from the glass of water on the bedside table.  
Michonne laughs way too cheerfully for someone who drank just as much as he did the night before. "Good morning, Mr Dixon. How are we feeling?"  
Daryl rolls onto his back and throws his arm over his eyes. "My head hurts."  
"Well, I'm not surprised. Imagine how you would feel if I hadn't made you drink your own body weight in water. Did you puke at all?"  
Daryl looks around. "I can't see any. I don't think so." That's something at least. "Although it kind of tastes like I did."  
"Good, because we're going down to breakfast in thirty minutes. Have a shower and get dressed. We'll come and get you." She hangs up.  
Daryl lies for a moment, trying to remember how much he had to drink last night. Way, way too much. He winces as he remembers telling the others what he wanted like to do with Jesus and buries in face in his pillow. He quickly checks his phone to make sure he didn't send any incrimiMichonneing texts to him without realising. No - thank fuck for that. After a moment, he taps out a message.  
DARYL: Guess who's feeling very rough this morning after drinking a few too many last night?  
He hits send and sits up, rubbing the back of his neck and burps. Gross - tastes like rum. He heads to the bathroom and takes some Advil and a text comes back.  
JESUS: PROOF OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN  
Daryl bites his lip and looks through his picture gallery. Michonne took tons of photos, some of them actually really good. He smiles as he sees a few really funny ones of him and Glenn, leaning in and making faces. There's one of Rick trying to look cool (which he usually ends up doing really well anyway), a selfie of Michonne making her sexy pouting face, one of her drinking her cocktail with wide-eyes. There's one of Daryl laughing at something and he's surprised to see how happy he looks. The next one is of him stood up, looking at the camera, slightly pissed-off, grabbing for the phone. He looks pretty wasted, his cheeks red and eyes slightly unfocused. He swipes to the next one and Glenn is lunging at him while Daryl has a slightly dreamy look on his face, eyes half-lidded, mouth mid-speech. Oh god, he remembers exactly what he was saying when THAT photo was taken.  
He swipes back to the previous photo, of him standing over Michonne, and attaches it to a message without any explaMichonneion.  
JESUS: Oh my god, that is amazing. You look so angry  
DARYL: Michonne was holding my phone hostage  
JESUS: What time does the con start?  
DARYL: 2pm - 6pm so not too bad. 2morrow will be the busiest day  
JESUS: Good luck :)  
DARYL: Thanks man  
Daryl puts his phone down on the sink and starts to run the shower. How is it even possible to miss someone so much in just a day? He takes off his t-shirt and boxers and gets under the warm spray, hoping to wash away some of the hangover, as well as some embarrassment, if that's possible. His mind starts to drift, thoughts turning back to Jesus and he turns the cold water up a notch.

***

He's just attempting to use the hair gel that Rick gave him when there's a knock on the door. Michonne and Rick are stood in the hallway, Michonne looking immaculate as always and Rick looking slightly bleary.  
"Look at you, doing your hair," Michonne says with a smirk.  
Daryl walks back into the bathroom, leaving the door open for them. "Did I do it right? I have no idea if it looks right."  
Michonne follows him in and leans on the sink. "It looks great. You look cute."  
Rick leans against the door frame, watching Daryl frown into the mirror. "You know, if you end up making out with Jesus when you get back to New York and it's because of your new hair, you totally owe me."  
Daryl tries not to look at them both as he washes the gel from his hands. "Look, uh, could you guys forget about all the stuff I was talking about last night? The...Jesus stuff?"  
"I already have no idea what you're talking about," Rick chuffs. "I made sure to give myself a cognitive recalibration when we got back last night so I never have to think about you doing dirty things ever again."  
Michonne gives a little giggle. "Oh Daryl, don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with letting everyone know that you think about sex and jerk off just like everyone else."  
Daryl makes a noise and goes scarlet. Michonne grabs him in a hug, pinning his arms to his sides. "Come on, forget about it. Rick already has."  
Daryl sighs and Michonne leads him out of the bathroom. "What time are we leaving?"  
"After breakfast. We might as well set up early, then we can look around before it gets busy."  
They take the elevator down to the breakfast room and Glenn is already there with a table for them. Daryl gets a bowl of cereal and sits down while Michonne and Rick run over to the bacon.  
"So, how you doing this morning, Mr Potty Mouth?" Glenn asks with a grin, putting four sugars into his coffee.  
Daryl plays with his cereal. "Please erase all memory of all things I said last night that had anything to do with sex."  
Glenn gives Daryl a friendly nudge. "I'm sorry; we can't help but tease you. It's so easy to make you blush. Look, already forgotten."  
Daryl finally smiles at Glenn. "Thank you."  
Michonne and Rick come to the table with two plates full of toast and bacon. "Luke Cage is sat down over there," Michonne points to an area of the breakfast room that they can't see, "and he is fucking built. I mean, the guy is HUGE."  
Rick gives her a look. "Hey, hello; it's me, your husband."  
Michonne waves him off. "I'm committed to you for life but I can still ogle." She holds out her plate. "We got bacon for you guys too."  
They eat and talk about things they want to get at the con. Glenn and Daryl start to get into a very heated discussion about something in Blade Runner and Michonne tries to get another glimpse at Luke Cage again without Rick noticing.

***

They all pile into a cab, barely fitting their con stuff into the trunk and having to heap most of it into laps. Glenn shotguns the front seat and Michonne, Rick and Daryl squeeze into the back.  
Glenn makes a dramatic arm motion. "To the convention centre!" The cab driver gives him a look. "Please," Glenn says and Daryl smothers a laugh.  
Things are already looking really busy when they arrive, a huge line of con goers snaking around the block and Daryl feels the familiar tight feeling in his chest start to close in. He takes a couple of deep breaths, trying his best to be quiet, looking out of the window away from the others. He feels Rick's hand on his shoulder and looks around.  
"You're okay. I'm here if you need me." Daryl gives him an appreciative nod.  
They're in the line to pick up their passes when Daryl sees Morgan Jones heading over. Glenn grins and they shake hands.  
"Hey Morgan, this is Daryl Dixon. You guys have a panel on Sunday, right?"  
Morgan turns to Daryl with a smile. "Oh hey! God, I love your work. I'll have to get you to sign my copy of Disassembled if that's okay?"  
Daryl smiles shyly. "Yeah, sure."  
Morgan gives them a wave. "I have to get back - I'm sat next to Thad Ross and he keeps trying to take over like a foot of my table."  
They finally get their passes and head into the hall; it's already manic with people setting up, booths everywhere, a ton of people already milling around. Daryl keeps his eyes on Michonne and follows her through the hall to the artist's alley. Glenn stops to talk to Dane Whitman and tells Michonne and Daryl that he'll catch up.  
"Oh my god," Rick cries excitedly, "I can see the Iron Throne!" He starts to run off. Michonne turns around, looking cross.  
"Rick, you need to help me set up first!" But he's already out of view.  
Michonne marches off again. "I wanted a picture on the Iron Throne," she sulks.  
They find their tables which are next to each other. Glenn is sat opposite. Daryl winces inwardly when he sees that he's next to Negan, even though it makes sense, as they all work on Winter Soldier. The table is already set up but there's no Negan in sight. Daryl hopes he doesn't come back for a while at least.  
Michonne crosses her arms and stares back down the aisle. "Rick has our fucking Rhees."  
Daryl is already rearranging the table cloth on his table. "Aw, let him have his fun. He's going to be running around after us all weekend." He starts to unpack his prints and the comics he intends to sell. Michonne shuffles about in her suitcase and pulls out a large package wrapped in brown paper.  
"Here are your prints. I hope you don't mind but I had a peek. They're amazing. I might need to nab a Hellraiser one from you if that's cool."  
"Sure," Daryl says. "I'll swap you for that District 9 one you did?"  
Rick comes back, grinning. "Check this out!" He holds up his phone, a photo of him lounging on the Iron Throne, frowning and pouting. Daryl bursts out laughing.  
"Wow, do you think you could have spread your legs out any wider?"  
"That's how it's done on the Iron Throne. This is so my new Facebook profile picture."  
Michonne punches him on the arm. "You could have at least waited until we'd set up, you dick."  
Rick props Daryl's Rhee against his table and pulls Michonne into his chest. "I love you honey, but the Iron Throne will always come before you." Michonne squirms away and continues setting up her table. "At least make yourself useful and go get us a coffee or something."  
Rick turns to Daryl. "You want a coffee, dude?"  
Daryl reaches for his wallet. "Yeah, that would be great."  
"No, no, I'll get it. You can get them tomorrow."  
Rick heads off and Daryl sets up his Rhee. He's lost in concentration, deciding which originals to sell when he hears Michonne mumble, "Uh-oh," under her breath.  
Daryl is about to ask what when he hears a smug voice crooning behind him. "No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man..." Daryl hunches his shoulders and gives Michonne a look.  
"Hello Negan," he says and turns around. Negan is swaggering towards him, still singing. He's wearing a suit and sunglasses. Indoors. Of course he is. Daryl stands up straight, already feeling himself getting defensive.  
"Behind Blue Eyes..." he finishes with a flourish.  
Negan stops in front of him and cocks his head. "Dixon, you actually got a haircut. And a modern one, at that." He takes Daryl's hand and pumps it vigorously, making Daryl's glasses slide to the end of his nose. "Your taste in clothes still sucks though. Hey, nice work on the comic, which is excellent, but then you were working from my scripts, so why wouldn't it be." He pulls Daryl away to the side before Daryl can even say anything and heads towards Michonne.  
"Hey gorgeous." Negan attempts to pull Michonne into a hug but she twists away and grabs his hand, shaking it instead.  
"Hello Negan. You're looking...smart."  
Negan gives her a winning smile. "So where's that lunk you're always hanging around with?"  
"You mean my husband? He's about."  
Negan makes a "hurm" and turns back to Daryl, who has gone back to arranging his table. "So how are you, Sad Sack?"  
Daryl turns back to Negan and is about to answer when Negan waves a hand at him. "Oh, I don't care. You just keep drawing those pretty pictures. Oh, FYI - our panel tomorrow, I took the liberty of giving the moderator some prompts and stuff. I wouldn't want us all to not look like professionals. Think you could actually make some noise at this one, Dixon? I know you have issues communicating with other human beings on a normal level but a few words would be nice."  
Daryl clenches his jaw and starts to shuffle about in his bag, annoyed. "I'd be happy to, if I could get a word in anywhere. Do you think you'll be able stop talking long enough for me and Michonne to say anything?"  
Negan beams at Michonne. "He's such a people person."  
Michonne starts to assemble her roller Rhee. "Only with you, Negan. Don't you have female con-goers you need to go and be sleazy against?"  
"Plenty of time for that, Red. And it's not sleazy, it's charming."  
Michonne gives him a look and deliberately puts her Rhee between them.  
Negan spies someone down the aisle and gives his hands a clap. "Well, as much as I would love to stay here and be dragged down into dullness and depression with Mr No-Fun and the Ice Queen, I can see someone I'd much rather speak to way, way over there." He slaps Daryl's ass as he walks away, not bothering to enjoy the reaction on Daryl's face. "See you kids later." He saunters off.  
Daryl turns to Michonne with an unbelieving shake of his head. "Why can't he just say hello and have a normal conversation like anyone else?  
Michonne arranges her prints on her table. "Because he's Negan Stark and he's a prick, that's why."  
Daryl pinches the bridge of his nose. His head is still too messed up and fuzzy to have to navigate the sarcasm and irritation of a conversation with Negan. "Why are we working on his book? Like, really?"  
Michonne throws him a wry smile. "The artistic thrills."  
Rick comes back with Glenn in tow, handing a latte to Daryl and a frappe to Michonne. "Oh no, did we just miss Negan? I'm so sad," he says in a voice that couldn't be less enthusiastic if he tried.  
Glenn puts his stuff down on the table across the aisle and comes over, looking at Daryl's prints. "So what did Mr Charisma want?"  
"To annoy me, what else." Daryl gives his table a critical look. "I think I'm done. Do you need a hand, Glenn?"  
"Nah, I don't have much. It'll take me like five minutes."  
"Go and have a look around, dude. You'll pEugeneably be too busy tomorrow," Rick says and helps Michonne set up her display stand.  
Daryl wipes his hands on his jeans. "Um, I saw a graphic novel stand over there. I'll just be a minute?"  
"We'll look after your stuff, take as long as you want," Michonne says, rearranging everything Rick just set up.  
Daryl heads off, knowing exactly what he wants from the stall, having seen them on his way in. The guy on the book stand gives him a warm smile and Daryl picks up two volumes of Before Watchmen for Jesus. He's nervous as he buys them, wondering if it's a bit much. He hands his money over before he can change his mind and heads back to his table.  
Michonne and Rick are squabbling over what looks better pinned up on Michonne's Rhee and Glenn is complaining because his table cloth is too small.  
"That was quick," Michonne says, eyeing the bag his books are in. "What did you get?"  
Daryl quickly puts the books in his messenger bag,. "Um, Before Watchmen. Just a couple of them. For...uh, for Jesus."  
Michonne raises an eyebrow. "Wow, you're already buying him graphic novels."  
Rick starts to hum the wedding march loudly.  
Daryl gives them both a scathing look. "It doesn't mean anything."  
They both nod and say "Of course it doesn't" at the Spencere time.  
Michonne's table is finally ready and Rick flops down on the floor behind Daryl and becomes engrossed with his phone. Michonne stands back and snaps pictures of her table from various angles.  
"Are you going to be updating your Tumblr with photos this weekend?" Daryl asks.  
"Of course I am," Michonne says and snaps one of Daryl. "Why?"  
"I, uh, gave your Tumblr address to Jesus because he's not on Facebook. Just so he could see what the con was like."  
Daryl can hear Rick chuckling behind him; Michonne tries to hold back a smile and comes over to Daryl's table. "Oh well, in that case, let's give him something to look at."  
Daryl stiffens, not sure how to pose. "Come on, Daryl - just smile. You look like you just shit yourself," Michonne says and Rick actually guffaws from the floor.  
Daryl lets out a breath and gives Michonne a look just as she takes a photo. "No, I wasn't ready!" he protests.  
Michonne shows him the photo. "There. You look cute and professional. Hopefully he'll see this and realise how much he misses you."  
Daryl looks down at the table and starts to pull his drawing stuff out of his bag. Michonne catches the corner of his mouth curling up in a slight smile, though.

***

The doors open at 2pm and it gets busy pretty quickly. A few people make a bee-line straight for Daryl and Michonne and within fifteen minutes, Daryl already has six commissions. Negan hasn't come back to his table yet and a few people mill about waiting for him, talking excitedly. Michonne is listening to a short ginger-haired guy talk about digital colouring and giving him her whole cool smirk-and-eyebrow treatment, Rick stood behind her table, arms folded. He tends to stick close-by ever since The-Guy-Who-Kept-Harassing-Michonne-And-Almost-Got-Punched incident. Daryl knows he's keeping an eye on him too.  
A few guys he recognises from other cons come over to get some issues of Winter Soldier signed and Daryl chats to them, finally relaxing a bit. Negan comes swanning back to his table, greeting everyone like he's a major celebrity but thankfully ignores Daryl for the rest of the day. Glenn has a steady stream of people to talk to and manages to break away for a minute after a couple of hours.  
"Are you guys up for meeting Morgan at the hotel for drinks after we get food? He's going to get Dane to come and maybe Luke Cage, too."  
Michonne raises an eyebrow. "I'm in. Also, hotel bar prices means not many drinks so that's pEugeneably a good idea."  
Rick huffs. "Yeah, nice try. That's so not why you want to go."  
"I'm in," Daryl says, thankful that not much booze will be involved.  
Glenn runs back to his table and Daryl gets back to his sketches, thinking about the books in his bag and how he can't wait for Sunday night.

***  
They all start to pack up at six o'clock; it had been a good start. Daryl managed to get thirteen commissions in all so far and completed six of them. He'll have to try and get a few more finished tonight so he doesn't get a back-log tomorrow. Michonne also did pretty well, although she complained that Rick's stink-eye scared a few potential punters away.  
"I didn't like the cut of their jib," he growls.  
Negan leaves with a small entourage and Glenn throws a balled up napkin at his head as he walks by and ducks under his table. Daryl happens to be looking straight at Negan as he turns around and he glares and points at Daryl as he walks on.  
Daryl throws Glenn a dirty look as he comes up from under his table, hand over his mouth. "Dude, I'm so sorry! That was bad timing."  
They head out of the convention centre and stop at a pizza place for dinner. Rick makes far too much noise when Daryl's order comes, covered in anchovies. Daryl plucks one off and puts it on Rick's arm and Glenn inhales the soda he'd been drinking and starts to choke when Rick screams and throws his arm up, trying to get the anchovy off.  
Back at the hotel, Morgan is already in the bar talking with Dane and Luke Cage is sat at a table with his arm around a pretty petite woman. Morgan waves when he sees them and they all introduce themselves. The small woman with Luke is his wife, Jessica. As conversations get started, Daryl excuses himself and drifts away to a table on his own, intending to get some sketches done. He checks his phone, but there's nothing from Jesus. He wonders if Jesus is thinking about him.  
Daryl has been drawing for an hour when someone pulls out a chair next to him. He looks up and it's Jessica. "May I?" she asks.  
Daryl clears some of his stuff from the table. "Oh sure, yes."  
She smiles and sits down. "You looked a bit lonely, even though you were working."  
Daryl raises his eyebrows. "I did?"  
Jessica smiles sweetly and says, "I get a bit overwhelmed at these things too. I like to come, to support Luke, but it gets a bit much for me sometimes."  
Daryl smiles back. "Yeah, it can get a bit intense."  
He looks over to the bar. Morgan, Glenn and Dane are all howling at something while Michonne sits on a bar stool, looking pissed off and neglected, while Rick and Luke talk excitedly, Rick looking like he's having the time of his life.  
Daryl's brow knots a little. "I hope they don't all think that I'm being...anti-social or anything. I just wanted to get some drawing done before it gets busy tomorrow."  
Jessica shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. Not everyone can stay switched on all the time, although Luke could just keep going if I didn't remind him to sleep."  
They talk about little things for a while and Daryl feels grateful that Jessica came over, that he met someone new and it was easy and pleasant. She eventually excuses herself to go to bed and touches Daryl's shoulder lightly as she gets up.  
"It was really good to meet you, Daryl. I hope we get to chat again before the con is over."  
Daryl watches her walk to the bar, kissing Luke on the cheek before heading out towards the lobby. Rick catches Daryl's eye and makes a "everything okay?" face and Daryl gives him a tired smile and nods. He gets back to his sketches.

***

As they walk through the convention centre the next morning, on their way to their tables, Michonne gets stopped by Rosita Espinosa. They greet each other pleasantly and make small talk, Michonne's smile looking more like a rictus grin as Rosita chats to her. Rick makes a small warning noise and steers Daryl away.  
Daryl has just started to sketch again at his table when Michonne comes back, looking furious. "What a bitch."  
Daryl gives Rick a look and Rick just shakes his head and turns away.  
"What happened?" Daryl asks.  
Michonne sits down with a huff. "She was going on about how good my work is."  
Daryl and Rick wait for more. "And?"  
"And that was it!"  
Daryl looks confused and is about to ask why that was a bad thing but Rick steps between their tables and offers to get coffee. Daryl gives him a twenty and Rick leaves. Glenn waves at them from across the aisle and takes a photo. The doors open and everything goes crazy.

***

Daryl barely has time to think the whole day. Negan's recent TV work means that everybody is suddenly interested in the Winter Soldier series and he and Michonne are inundated with people wanting sketches, prints and more conversations than Daryl is able to handle. Rick stays close to both of them for the morning, giving Daryl the occasional reassuring pat on the shoulder which he's happy to receive.  
Glenn has somehow managed to get Jessica to look after his table so he can have a look around and she gives Daryl a smile and a wave when she catches his eye and Daryl smiles brightly at her. Glenn comes over to Daryl and Michonne when he gets back, squeezing behind the table.  
"Holy shit, I can't believe it's so busy!" he exclaims. "There are bronies EVERYWHERE!"  
"How do you know they're bronies?" Daryl asks, looking up from a sketch and rubbing his neck.  
"Because they're dressed up as fucking horses!"  
Michonne is managing to sketch and keep up a steady steam of talk at her table. One guy asks her what it's like to be a woman working in comics and Michonne gives him a particularly icy stare. "It's exactly like being a man working in comics, just with less testicles."  
Rick snorts.  
The crowd thins out at about one o'clock and Daryl sits back, taking a few deep breaths. He's grateful that he's been so engaged in drawing, unable to think about anything besides the paper in front of him. As he looks over at Michonne, face calm and smiling as she sketches something for a girl of about fifteen who looks like she's just met her idol, he spots two people cosplaying as Rorschach and Dr Manhattan from Watchmen. He turns to Rick.  
"Rick, can you get a picture of me with those guys?"  
Rick looks to where Daryl is pointing and laughs. "Oh cool, yeah, gimme your phone."  
Daryl hands Rick his phone and shyly approaches the two guys and asks for a picture. They respond enthusiastically and come to Daryl's table, posing beside him. He gives a check-this-out smile to the camera. He thanks the guys and they shuffle off, posing for someone else.  
Rick shows him the picture. "That's amazing. I can't believe that guy actually painted himself blue."  
Daryl sits back down and attaches the photo to a text.  
DARYL: Thought you'd get a kick out of this  
He picks his pen back up and glances at his phone every two minutes. A text come back after ten and Daryl sMichonneches it up.  
JESUS: Oh my god!! Thank christ Dr Manhattan is wearing underwear  
DARYL: They were awesome  
JESUS: How are you?  
DARYL: Really busy. Tired but good. How are you?  
JESUS: I'm okay. Hope you don't get too wiped out  
Daryl smiles to himself over his phone and Michonne's voice breaks into his happy haze.  
"Well, I don't have to ask who you just got a text from to make you smile like that." Daryl goes red and Rick ruffles his hair.  
Their panel with Negan goes as expected: Negan talks most of the time, even to the annoyance of the moderator, and Daryl and Michonne manage to get in a few answers to questions about working on the Winter Soldier series. As Negan talks about his new show and how writing for TV is SO different from writing for comics, Michonne, who thought to bring a sketchpad and Sharpies with her, draws a chibi Negan with a huge mouth and holds it up surreptitiously to the crowd. There are scattered laughs and Negan obliviously continues to waffle. Daryl picks up a pink Sharpie and draws a bow on chibi Negan's head and a Hello Kitty face on his chest. He holds it up and the laughter is louder. Michonne and Daryl duck behind the drawing and giggle together.  
"What are they doing? Are they stealing my thunder? They're totally stealing my thunder," Negan says, his mock annoyance edging onto real annoyance.  
Michonne looks over at him. "Negan, you've totally hogged this whole panel. We've managed to contribute to about 12% of this whole conversation."  
There are some "oohs" from the crowd and Negan snorts.  
"See what I have to deal with? They gang up on me. They don't understand what it is to be a true genius."  
Daryl, without really thinking, throws his middle finger up at Negan and Michonne stifles a manic giggle as the crowd start to laugh and clap. Daryl feels his face turn red and Negan gives him a very dirty look as he continues to talk. Michonne gives Daryl a fist bump.  
Rick groans with relief when they get back to their tables, still giggling about the panel. "God, it's been crazy. Daryl, I sold like fifteen of your horror prints. Michonne, some guy from Image came over and said he wants to talk to you and that he'd be back later. I'm going to need a fucking beer after this."

***

Daryl starts to struggle at about four-thirty, suddenly finding it harder to focus on his sketches, his throat feeling tight, his head feeling light and muffled. He gives a tight smile to the guy talking at him about a comic series he's never read and takes a long swallow from the bottle of water Glenn got for him half an hour ago. The guy finally leaves and Daryl glances around at Rick, stood with his arms folded behind Michonne, and Rick immediately comes over.  
"You okay?" he asks softly, leaning down towards Daryl.  
Daryl nods. "Yeah, just a bit...I might need to go outside."  
Michonne leans across her own table, face furrowed in concern. "What's going on?"  
Rick puts a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I think he needs to get some air."  
Michonne ushers them away. "Well, go. I'll keep an eye on things." She stands up and positions herself between the two tables.  
Daryl stands up. "Sorry, Michonne."  
She shakes her head. "No apologies. Get outside."  
Rick walks Daryl out into the aisle, keeping his hand on his shoulder. Glenn looks up, worried, and Rick gives him an "it's okay" wave. They walk through the crowd and Daryl is about to turn towards the main entrance which is clogged with people, making his heart thump faster, when Rick pulls him in another direction.  
"I know a secret way out," he says and they walk across the hall to a service entrance. Rick mumbles something to the security guard and he nods and lets them through. Daryl immediately feels relief when he hits the fresh air, the service yard empty save for a few large garbage cans. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes, talking in large gulps of air, his head clearing. Rick doesn't say anything, just stays next to him, his arm across Daryl's shoulders.  
After ten minutes, Daryl pushes himself away from the wall. "Thanks Rick," he manages quietly and Rick pulls him into a little hug.  
"Anytime." He leads them back in and Michonne looks relieved when they get back.  
"Are you okay?" she asks Daryl as he sits down.  
Daryl nods weakly. "Yeah, possible disaster averted. I just feel like an idiot."  
Michonne hits him lightly on the arm. "None of that. I was thinking that maybe you, me and Rick could just go somewhere quiet after this? I'm pretty wiped and I think we'd both want to just hang out with you." Rick nods in agreement.  
"What about Glenn?" Daryl asks, worried that he's made things complicated.  
"Glenn is cool; he's going to some club with Luke and Dane," she says, and he realises that she must have spoken to him.  
Daryl nods. "That would be nice."  
Things have started to wind down and the aisles gradually thin, people heading off to after-parties or bars, groups of cosplayers gathering together for photo shoots. Daryl rubs his wrist, which has been steadily aching for most of the day. Negan leaves at five o'clock, brushing by Daryl's table and giving him the finger back. He goes to say something to Michonne as he passes and steps away when Rick gives him a frown.  
Daryl packs away his paper and pens, zipping up his portfolio. Glenn heads over after covering up his table. He glances down at Daryl. "Everything okay?"  
Daryl nods and Glenn gives them all a wave. "See you guys tomorrow."  
Michonne throws an arm around Daryl's shoulders and Rick's waist and leads them off down towards the entrance. "Come on, Men. Let's go."

***

They find a BBQ place and eat a very messy but tasty dinner. Daryl cracks up as Rick annoys Michonne by saying "moist towelette" as often as he can until she threatens to boycott any and all sex with him.  
Daryl shuffles about in his bag and finds his wrist support, sliding it on and pulling the velcro tabs in place. He gets out his unfinished sketches and pens.  
Michonne tuts, looking up from the copy of Fun Home she picked up on the way out of the con. "Daryl, it's pEugeneably a good idea to rest your hand rather than try and do more work."  
Daryl puts his glasses on the table and rubs his face. "I know, but the more I get done tonight, the less I need to worry about tomorrow."  
Rick starts up another game of Tetris on his phone and points to Daryl's wrist support. "That's what you get when you use your right hand for everything." He waggles his eyebrows.  
Daryl starts to draw and Michonne holds up her phone, ready to take another picture of him. Daryl waves a hand. "Michonne..."  
"Come on, we'll give him one more to look at before bedtime." She gives him a sly little grin. Daryl sighs with a defeated smile.  
Michonne snaps the photo and gives it an appraising look, holding her phone out to him. "I think this is the best one yet." Daryl looks tired but happy in the picture, pencil in hand, a little lopsided smile on his face.  
Daryl hopes that Jesus sees it.

***

Daryl says goodnight to Michonne and Rick when they get to the hotel, dead on his feet. Rick is determined to have another drink before they call it a night and Michonne waves to Daryl as Rick drags her to the bar. Daryl gets back to his room, ears buzzing slightly in the quiet, trying to readjust to the silence, letting it take him over. He loves comic cons but the constant noise and interaction steadily wears him down until all he wants is somewhere quiet and dark.  
The bedside clock flashes 9:15pm and Daryl chuffs, thinking it was a lot later. He takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth and gets into bed, turning off the lamp and savouring the feel of the pillow on his head, his shoulders aching against the mattress. His phone rings and he groans, expecting Michonne or Rick, ready to refuse if they try and cajole him back downstairs. It's Jesus.  
Daryl's heart leaps into his throat as he answers. "Hi!"  
"Hey, I hope I'm not butting in on anything?"  
"No," Daryl answers quickly, stumbling. "No - I just got into bed."  
"Oh shit, sorry. I just wanted - " Jesus says, sounding just as flustered as Daryl.  
"No, it's fine. I...it's good to hear your voice...I mean, it's good to hear from you." He winces. Don't sound desperate...  
"Oh, good...cool. I just wanted to see how you were...I was thinking about you...how you did today at the convention..."  
"I'm fine. It was a good day. I'm so tired now though, its ridiculous."  
Jesus laughs softly. "Yeah, I was looking at Michonne's Tumblr. It looked pretty insane."  
So he was looking. Daryl's face starts to feel warm.  
"Hey, what happened to your hand? You were wearing a thing..." Jesus sounds concerned.  
"Oh, that's just my wrist support. My hand gets funny when I've been drawing all day. It was pretty intense for commissions."  
"Ah, okay. Good. I mean, good that you didn't hurt it."  
Daryl smiles. "So how's it going? What have you been up to?"  
"Pssshhh, nothing. Unless you count a marathon of My Strange Addiction as something."  
"Did they do the one about the guy who dates his car?" Daryl asks and Jesus erupts into a fit of laughter. Daryl hadn't realised how much he'd missed that sound.  
"Oh my god, yeah! That was just insane. Oh, and the woman who licks cats!"  
They talk about some other episodes for a bit and Daryl tells Jesus about Negan and the panel they had. Jesus mentions to Daryl how he thought he heard Hobo Guy shuffling about up on Daryl's floor and how they should try and lure him out of his apartment when Daryl gets back.  
"I don't think he ever leaves by the front door; it couldn't have been him. I think he creeps out through the fire escape." Daryl says, sounding sleepier by the minute but determined to stay on the phone as long as Jesus wants to talk.  
"I looked at his mailbox this morning but there's no name on it," Jesus said.  
Daryl laughs. "You're totally stalking him!"  
"No I'm not! I was so bored I thought I'd try and find some shit out. You've lived in this place longer than me - don't you know anything about him?"  
Daryl considers. "No, now that you mention it. I've never actually seen him, just heard him banging on the walls."  
Jesus excitedly launches into what he's calling Operation: Boo Radley and starts reeling off things they should do to try get Hobo Guy to make an appearance.  
Daryl interrupts Jesus after Idea Number Five: Set off the building fire alarm and wait for him to come outside. "Wait, are you reading this out? Did you write all of this down?" Daryl starts to laugh.  
"Dude, I was bored!"  
Daryl rolls onto his side. "I should have lent you my Wii U," he says, sounding drowsy.  
"Nah, it wouldn't have been as much fun without you to play," Jesus says and they both fall silent for a moment.  
"I should let you sleep," Jesus says.  
"No, I'm fine. This is nice," Daryl says without thinking.  
Jesus gives a soft chuckle. "Okay. Actually, I wanted to ask you a question. But you don't have to answer it if you don't want to..."  
"This sounds ominous..." Daryl says, closing his eyes.  
Jesus is quiet for a beat. "That Dwight guy we ran into..."  
Daryl's eyes snap open and his throat catches. He doesn't realise that he hasn't answered until Jesus says, "Daryl?" his voice slightly worried.  
Daryl clears his throat. "Yeah, I...I'm still here."  
"So...uh...who dumped who?"  
Daryl rolls onto his back. He thought that Jesus must have figured...things...out the other day. "He dumped me," he says quietly into the dark.  
Jesus is silent for a moment then says quietly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."  
Daryl puts his arm across his eyes. "No, it's fine. I, uh, I filed that one away with the other Daryl's Amazing Fails a while ago."  
"Daryl, I...um...I wanted to say..." Jesus sounds like he's struggling to get the words out.  
"What is it, Jesus?" Daryl asks softly, not daring to hope anything.  
Jesus lets out a little sigh. "I should let you sleep. It was good to talk to you."  
Daryl closes his eyes. "Yeah, you too. I'll see you tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow. Goodnight Daryl."  
He hangs up and Daryl puts his phone on the bedside table. He lies awake thinking for the better part of an hour before his mind finally gives in and he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of grey-blue eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday morning, Daryl meets Michonne and Rick in the lobby, suitcase packed. They were going to have to take all of their stuff back to the con with them; Daryl's flight is at 5:10pm and Michonne and Rick's train back to Milwaukee is at 6:20pm. Michonne makes a yowling sound when Daryl comes over and grabs him in a tight hug, knocking his glasses askew.  
"No, you're not allowed to go back to New York. I won't allow it."  
Daryl hugs her back and adjusts his glasses. "We still have a whole day together yet, idiot."  
She pulls back, her face set in a frown. "Yeah, a WORKING day. It's not the Spencere."  
Rick puts an arm around Michonne's shoulders. "She started crying last night after two drinks. She really doesn't want you to go."  
Michonne hisses and elbows Rick hard in the gut. "Don't tell him I cried!"  
Daryl feels a bit like crying himself. He reaches out and hugs Michonne. "I love you, Michonne. The next time I see you, you'll be in New York. Besides, we talk everyday pretty much."  
"It's not the Spencere." Michonne buries her face in his shoulder and Daryl is surprised by the genuine anguish in her voice; Michonne never gives anything overly emotional away and it's sweet and kind of scary when she does. "You're my best friend, you know that right?" Her voice is small.  
Daryl hugs her tight. "Of course I do. You're my best friend, too," he says softly.  
Michonne steps back, face knotted, and turns and stalks off towards the lobby bathrooms.  
Daryl watches her go and turns to Rick, still rubbing his stomach where Michonne had elbowed him, face worried and questioning.  
"Don't worry about it," Rick sighs. "She got a bit upset last night. Michonne thinks she doesn't need many friends, you know this whole lone wolf thing she has going on. She misses you and she worries about you more than she lets on."  
"You know you're my best friend too, right?" Daryl says to Rick, his face pinched.  
Rick rolls his eyes and grabs Daryl by the shoulder, yanking him in. "Oh, don't you fucking start. You two are the worst."  
"I would say get a room, but that's so done," says Glenn, coming over from the elevator, dragging a duffel bag behind him.  
Rick hooks a foot around Daryl's leg and dips him towards the floor, arms wrapped around Daryl's back. "We don't need to hide our love," he says into Daryl's startled face and kisses him hard on the mouth, making loud moaning sounds.  
Glenn drops his bag and fumbles in his pockets, laughing his ass off. "Oh my god, my camera! I need my camera!"  
"No!" Daryl shouts, pulling his face away, and the clerk at the desk gives them all a stinking look. He twists out of Rick's grasp and slithers to the floor. "No more embarrassing pictures of me!" His face is red and Rick laughs, helping him up. Glenn's phone rings and he slides his bag across the Daryl and Rick, one finger up, heading out the front, laughing as he answers.  
"Hey Maggie...what? Yeah, I've been laughing all weekend...honestly, I think I've damaged myself internally..."  
Daryl glares at Rick. "Well, you have the honour of being the second person who's ever kissed me like that in my entire life." He turns away.  
Rick looks at him and when he realises Daryl isn't joking, his eyes widen. "Seriously?"  
Daryl nods, his face going from raspberry to puce.  
Rick looks mortified. "Oh dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, I was just fooling around. I didn't mean to - "  
Daryl shakes his head and fumbles with his bag. "No, just...it's stupid. I'm stupid. Forget I said anything."  
Rick puts his hands behind his head. "This morning isn't going the way I'd hoped it would..." He walks over to Daryl and turns him around.  
"I'm sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I wasn't thinking that it might...mean more to you than a joke."  
Daryl doesn't look at him. "It's okay. I'm just feeling a bit...confused this morning. Don't worry about it."  
Rick folds his arms. "You don't have to count that one as a real kiss. I mean, I'd be flattered if you did but it wasn't one of my best." He tries his best to sound light-hearted.  
Daryl forces a weak smile and busies himself with his bags, turning away. Michonne comes back from the bathroom, face neutral.  
"Are you losers ready to go now?"

***

They buy breakfast on the way to the con, eating in the cab, much to the disapproving looks of the driver. There's a slightly maudlin atmosphere between Michonne, Rick and Daryl which Glenn has picked up on, but doesn't mention. Daryl is lost in thought, the conversation with Jesus the night before replaying over and over. Rick has one hand on Michonne's knee, mulling over how to tell her that he did something very stupid. Michonne stares out of the window.  
Their spirits lift a bit when they get to their tables and find several people cosplaying as Winter Soldier characters waiting for them. Negan is in the middle of charming them all and one girl keeps giggling wildly at everything he says. He turns and sees them coming.  
"Well, finally, they show up. Come on, these lovely people have been waiting for your tardy asses to get some pictures taken."  
Daryl is slightly blown away by the guy in the Winter Soldier costume, which is scarily close to his character design, with some amazingly thought out details. Negan directs everyone into position, yanking Daryl by the arm and flinging him in the middle of the group and holding up his hands defensively when Michonne tells him she'll break his arm if he grabs her. They get a few group shots, with the characters posing around them. Negan, much to Daryl's surprise, is insanely pleasant to the cosplayers, and stages some really clever and funny photos. Daryl and Michonne smile at each other, actually having fun with him for once, although neither of them would ever tell him that. Daryl gets Rick to take a photo of him with the Winter Soldier on his phone and then Negan pulls Michonne and Rick in for a photo of just the three of them.  
"Purely for promotional purposes," Negan says.  
The cosplayers finally disperse and Daryl stashes his suitcase under his table. Michonne starts on some new sketches, back to her usual snarky self, muttering about giving Rosita Espinosa a piece of her mind if she comes anywhere near her table. Rick is stood behind her with a worried look on his face.  
"I'm just going to go for a walk, before the doors open." Daryl says to them and Michonne nods.  
"We'll keep an eye on your stuff."  
As Daryl walks away he hears Michonne say, not as quietly to Rick as she thinks, "Shit, I think I screwed up this morning with my stupid emotional outburst..."  
"Um, pEugeneably not as much as me. I did something really stupid while you were in the bathroom..." Rick replies and Daryl turns the corner into the next aisle before he can hear the rest. He wanders idly between the stalls - comics, replica weapons from movies, video games, t-shirts - but doesn't take any of it in. Daryl wonders why Jesus asked about Dwight and what it could mean, if anything. His phone vibrates in his pocket.  
JESUS: Hey! What are your thoughts on noodles?  
DARYL: I like them?  
JESUS: A new ramen place opened down the street - wanna try it later?  
DARYL: Sure - I'll text you when I'm on my way back home  
There's a pause before the next message comes in.  
JESUS: Everything okay? I hope I didn't upset you last night or anything  
Daryl quickly replies.  
DARYL: No, no you didn't, not at all, Michonne got upset this morning and I got weird with Rick and I'm just really exhausted. Kind of looking forward to coming back to NY  
JESUS: Crap, sorry to hear it. You want to talk later?  
DARYL: I think I'm being melodramatic, don't worry about it, I'm tired. Any new intel on Hobo Guy?  
JESUS: Not yet. I need you as my point man for any further missions  
DARYL: Why am I the point man? Don't they always get shot?  
JESUS: No, they lead the charge. Anyway, I'd have your back like a sniper or something  
Any uncertainty or weirdness that Daryl had been feeling about the conversation last night quickly dissipates. He can feel something between him and Jesus. He doesn't want to hope too much that Jesus is attracted to him the way he is to Jesus but something has built between them in the last week. Daryl feels like...he matters. Michonne and Rick make him feel like he matters, as do Glenn and Spencer, but this is different. Jesus is someone who came into Daryl's life as an outside force, not related to his work in any way, a stranger he met on the stairs who seems to like him and want to hang out with him and...connect with him. Daryl didn't realise how much he had ached for someone like Jesus until he had met him. His brief relationship with Dwight had been awkward and difficult for Daryl; a constant time frame of worrying that he wasn't good enough, couldn't act the right way or say what he wanted to say without blustering. With Dwight, Daryl had just felt like he'd been trying too hard all the time. With Jesus, it feels easy and...right.  
DARYL: My hero. Wouldn't that make you my sidekick?  
JESUS: Sidekick?! Fuck you!  
DARYL: Okay, fine. Partners  
JESUS: Better :)  
He smiles, feeling that flutter in his chest. He checks the time; his panel with Morgan and Eugene is in thirty minutes. He heads back to his table, in time to see Rick stalking out of the hall, his face livid. Daryl's stomach sinks. He's equally as distressed to see how angry Michonne looks sat at her table, making pencils marks on a piece of paper like she wants to kill it. Daryl approaches cautiously and Michonne's face softens when she looks up and sees him.  
"Rick told me what he did and I can't believe he'd be so...uargh!" She runs her hands through her red hair. "He just stormed off because I called him a fucking moron and now he's mad at me...and then there's me being a total emotional idiot earlier...we've ruined it. We've ruined the con!"  
Daryl comes around the table and sits next to Michonne, nudging her with his foot. "No, you haven't. How many times have I been an gibbering wreck in front of you? I think you're allowed one little show of emotion now and again. Besides, it made me feel special."  
Michonne gives him a you-ain't-all-that look and he smiles. "But Rick said he made you feel really bad with his stupid kissing thing, which he did to Glenn last year, I might add."  
Daryl lets out a breath. "It wasn't his fault. I know he was only messing around. It just made me feel...a bit inadequate about my love life. I shouldn't have snapped at him."  
"Is Dwight really the only guy you've ever been with?" Michonne asks, her face soft.  
Daryl looks down at the drawing she's been working on and nods. "If you could call it that. Nothing went beyond...kissing..." He can't quite meet her eyes, finally admitting what he thinks she already kind of knew.  
"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Daryl."  
Daryl gives a bitter chuckle. "No? It doesn't feel that way. When we ran into Dwight the other day, I was so...terrified about what Jesus would think and I was so mad at myself for thinking that it would matter. He called me last night and we were just talking about crap and then he asked me about Dwight, and I got all weird and...I don't know... I'm so worried that I'm going to scare him away."  
Michonne holds his hand. "I think it would take more than that to scare him away, especially after telling you about Afghanistan and everything . Have you been in touch today?"  
Daryl nods. "Yeah, just now. We're meeting for food later."  
"So, there! You haven't scared him away. Who knows, maybe him finding out was a good thing. He might be thinking about you in the Spencere way you think about him."  
"I can't let myself hope for that," Daryl says sadly.  
"Why not? Daryl, you don't just meet someone and hit it off the way you have with him everyday. Just...you're thinking about it too hard. Just see how it goes. You might be surprised."  
Daryl squeezes her hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you."  
Michonne looks away. "You're going to make me cry all over again. Shut up."  
Daryl laughs and puts his arm across her shoulder. "You don't cry. I don't believe that you did. It must have been an eyelash in your eye or something. Michonne Grimes doesn't have the capacity for tears."  
Michonne laughs and turns back, looking at him warmly. "It was totally an eyelash."  
Daryl spots Rick coming back, laden with coffee and paper bags. He doesn't look angry anymore, just apologetic. "I bought lots of coffee and baked goods to win myself back into both of your private parts."  
Michonne stands up and leans across the table and kisses him, something she's not very comfortable doing in public, and Rick smiles at her with such a look of devotion that Daryl can't help but feel happy and jealous at the Spencere time. He wants someone to look at him that way. He wants Jesus to look at him that way. Rick looks down at Daryl and offers one of the paper bags.  
"I got you all the cinnamon rolls." He's wearing such a look of remorse on his face that Daryl wonders how he got so mad at Rick in the first place; the guy doesn't have a bad bone in his body.  
Daryl gives him a lopsided grin. "Thank you." Rick beams and things are good again.  
Daryl waits until Rick has taken a mouthful of coffee and says, "You totally gave me a semi when you kissed me earlier," and Rick inhales the coffee down the wrong way and starts to cough. Michonne shrieks with laughter and sprays fragments of blueberry muffin over her table.

***  
Daryl takes the cinnamon rolls to his panel where Morgan and Eugene are waiting outside for him. Morgan smiles and shakes his hand again. Eugene Porter is tall and intense and slightly terrifying until he smiles and tells Daryl that he's insanely jealous of his work on the Winter Soldier. Daryl splutters something nice about Eugene's work and they head in. There's a big crowd and Daryl focuses on ignoring how many people are in the room and on the moderator's questions instead. It turns out to be an amazing panel. Daryl hands out cinnamon rolls to Eugene, Morgan, the moderator - a guy called Dave - and to a few people in the front row of the audience, which gets him a round of "aw, cute" from a few girls sat near the middle. He returns to the table, blushing, and Morgan pats him on the back and says, "Thanks for making the rest of us look bad," which gets a laugh and Daryl feels any trepidation about talking in front of a crowd drain away.  
They talk about their various projects and how they got into comics, and Daryl starts to open up a bit, becoming less shy as the panel goes on. When it's the audiences turn to ask questions, someone asks Daryl how well he really gets on with Michonne and Daryl says "She's my best friend," which gets more "aws" from the crowd.  
Dave the moderator says, "She has this reputation for being a bit...scary? What's she really like?"  
"She's terrifying," Daryl answers. "I'm too scared not to be her best friend." The crowd laugh and the panel wraps up.  
Daryl heads back to his table after chatting to Morgan and Eugene for a bit, exchanging email addresses with them both. Michonne is sketching and Rick is looking after Daryl's table. Rick pats him on the back when he sits down. Daryl pulls out his sketchpad and pens and starts on the rest of his commissions.  
The day passes in a blur; it's not as manic as Saturday but the flow of people is steady and Daryl eventually has to turn away people wanting sketches otherwise he'll never finish them. The girls from the panel stop by his table. There are three of them, all in their late teens by the looks of it, and they talk and joke with him for a while, buying prints and getting copies of Winter Soldier signed. When they finally leave, all giggling madly to each other, Michonne leans across to him, a huge disbelieving smile on her face.  
"Oh my god, they were totally flirting with you!"  
Daryl's eyes widen. "No they weren't. They were just being nice."  
"Daryl, they took like a million photos of you. They were so flirting."  
Michonne snorts loudly and tells Daryl he's completely clueless and Daryl starts to protest again and Rick shakes his head. "Man, it's a good job you're into boys because you'd be a nightmare with girls," he says.  
At 3pm, he starts to pack away his stuff and Michonne comes and helps him, dismantling his Rhee for him.  
"I can't believe you're going. It feels like we had no time to hang out at all," she says. "You need to come and stay with us for a weekend, just a normal weekend and we can watch movies and get angry about things on the internet together."  
"That would be great," Daryl says with a little smile.  
When he finishes, he heads over to Glenn's table to say goodbye.  
Glenn stands up. "You're leaving already? Boo."  
"I have to catch my plane. It was great to see you again, Glenn."  
Glenn hugs him. "I'll see you at Vision-Con next. Maybe we'll be nice and give Captain Dixon a break."  
Daryl smiles. "That would be appreciated."  
Negan looks up from his own table, which he's been sat at for all of ten minutes the whole day, constantly walking off to schmooze with people. "Oh, you're leaving already, Dixon? The con too much for your delicate disposition?"  
"As always, it was such a pleasure to see you, Negan." He reaches into his bag and pulls out the chibi Negan sketch him and Michonne did at the panel. "This is for you."  
Negan frowns at the sketch and glares at Michonne. "My head isn't that big."  
Michonne laughs. "Oh, it's about right," she says.  
Negan scowls and tosses the picture aside, but as Daryl puts his portfolio under his arm and picks up his suitcase, he sees Negan slide it into one the books next to him.  
Michonne covers up her table and her and Rick walk with Daryl out to the main entrance of the convention centre to find a cab. Rick gives Daryl a little nudge and when Daryl looks up at him, Rick raises an eyebrow - his way of asking if everything's cool with them. Daryl nudges him back and nods.  
Michonne grabs Daryl and hugs him hard. It hasn't had this much physical contact for a while and he hugs her back just as firmly. He gives Rick a hug and climbs into the cab. Michonne huddles up to Rick and he kisses the side of her head.  
"Text us as soon as you get back," she demands.  
"I will. I'll call you tomorrow?"  
Michonne gives a hard nod, blinking furiously.  
Daryl gives her a little smile. "Watch out for those eyelashes."  
"Take care, Daryl." Rick says, looking equally as forlorn.  
Daryl waves to them until the convention centre is out of sight and faces forward. As much as he's going to miss them, he can't help the growing excitement building inside him of seeing Jesus again.

***

When he gets to the departure lounge, he texts Michonne.  
DARYL: At the airport. Love you guys. Thanks for my haircut  
MICHONNE: I'm so depressed it's unreal. Rick just went off to buy me a million things. He loves his lame Teen Wolf DVD BTW  
DARYL: Speak 2morrow x  
He takes a breath and starts to tap out another message.  
DARYL: Boarding in about 20mins. Should hopefully be back by about 7:30  
JESUS: Awesome! See you soon  
Daryl sits back and tries to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He pulls out the copy of Lobster Johnson that he managed to buy himself and reads for a bit, totally distracted by thoughts of Jesus and having to re-read the last three pages twice to know what's going on. The plane starts to board.

***

The flight seems to drag this time. Daryl constantly jiggles his leg without meaning to until the guy next to him, a sour businessman, brusquely asks him to stop. Daryl flushes and apologises and spends the rest of the flight looking straight ahead at his seat. When they land, he all but runs through security and baggage claim. He hails a cab and bites his nails the whole way back. He finally arrives at his apartment building and Daryl is suddenly hesitant to go in, his nerves getting the better of him. Come on, don't be a fucking wuss, he tries to tell himself, but his inner voice is just as nervous sounding. He heads in through the door and goes to check his mail box.  
"Hey!"  
He turns and Jesus is sat on the stairs, waiting for him. He stands up and gives a little wave. He's wearing a red checked shirt over a white tee under his army jacket instead of his usual hoodie, his baseball cap in his pocket. His left sleeve is pinned up and he nervously runs his hand through his hair. Daryl swallows slightly, totally unprepared for how seeing Jesus again makes him feel. How had he forgotten how amazing Jesus's eyes are, how his smile makes Daryl feel like the best person in the world? Daryl realises that Jesus is...beautiful. He's fucking beautiful.  
"Hey," he replies, a huge smile creeping across his face before he has a chance to try and act cool. Jesus comes over to him and for one split heart-stopping second, Daryl thinks he's going to hug him, but he holds out his hand instead. Daryl shakes it and they both laugh awkwardly. "How are you?"  
"I'm okay." Jesus's eyes flit up to Daryl's hair. "That haircut makes you look so different."  
Daryl touches the front self-consciously. "I'm still getting used to it."  
"How was your flight?" Jesus asks.  
Daryl nods. "Yeah, it was fine. I was next to this guy who decided to use both armrests, which was really annoying. Um, let me just dump my stuff in my apartment and we'll go."  
Jesus picks up Daryl's portfolio. "Cool."  
They head up and Jesus tells him about an argument between Mr Castor and Mrs Gonzalez that happened this morning on the fourth floor that ended with Mr Castor's laundry ending up being thrown out of the window.  
"It was amazing," Jesus says, as Daryl opens his front door and pulls his suitcase inside. "His towels had all these weird stains on them, even though they'd just been washed." He puts Daryl portfolio on his desk.  
"Did you leave the building at all this weekend?" Daryl asks with a grin.  
Jesus saunters over to him. "With this much neighbour action and bad TV to watch? Why would I?"  
Daryl nervously rummages in his bag and pulls out the two graphic novels he bought for him at the con. He holds the plastic bag out to Jesus. "I, uh, got you a present. It's just...something. I thought you'd like them."  
Jesus takes the bag and his face lights up when he sees the books. "Wow, there's more Watchmen?"  
"Yeah, they've only just come out as graphic novels. They're really good. There are more if you like them. I...um..." Daryl trails off.  
Jesus shakes his head. "I...wow, thank you, Daryl. That was...really good of you." His eyes meet Daryl's and Daryl feels a jolt run straight through from his toes to his throat.  
Daryl looks away before he makes himself any more obvious. "Maybe we could watch the movie too. It's different to the book but good different."  
"There's a movie?!"

***

They head to the ramen place, which is modern but comfortable and get a table near the back, Jesus sitting with his left side close to the wall. Daryl wonders how self-conscious he is about his arm, but doesn't say anything. They both order beef udon and Jesus insists on getting a bowl of edamame, which Daryl has never tried before. He stares uncertainly at the bright green salted beans when they arrive.  
"Why are they still in their pods?"  
"Because you do this, "Jesus says and picks one up, putting it in his mouth and dragging his teeth along the pod, chewing the beans as they come out. Daryl thinks he might have a heart attack as he stares a bit too intently at Jesus's lips as he pulls the bean pod from his mouth. He shows Daryl the empty pod and dumps it in the empty bowl next to the bowl full of beans.  
Daryl picks one up and tries it, Jesus watching him as he does. "Wow, it's good," Daryl says and drops the empty pod, picking up another one. They make their way through the bowl and Jesus starts to shift the salt flakes at the bottom of the bowl with his finger when they've finished.  
"I read your comic over the weekend," he says. "It was really good. Your artwork is just...I can't believe you can draw like that."  
Daryl gives an embarrassed little smile. "Thanks. Oh, hey. Look at this." He gets out his phone and flips through his photos, finding the one of the guy in the Winter Soldier cosplay.  
Jesus holds his phone. "That's amazing! That must be so awesome, to see someone like something you drew enough to want to make a costume out of it."  
"Yeah, it's a bit...overwhelming."  
"Did you take any other pictures?" Jesus asks and Daryl nods, indicating that Jesus can flip through the photo gallery. He drinks his soda, watching Jesus's face as he looks at picture after picture, unable to draw his eyes away from him as he reacts with little laughs and smiles.  
Jesus holds the phone out to Daryl with an amused grin. "What was going on in this one?" Of course, it's the one of Glenn lunging to cover up Daryl's mouth, as Daryl talks about something he'd never tell anyone about while he was sober.  
Daryl blusters. "I don't know, I was pEugeneably babbling about something...I can't really remember."  
"Looks like it was good, whatever you were talking about," Jesus says with a mischievous smile and Daryl wants to sink into the floor.  
Jesus smiles at the photo of Daryl, Michonne and Rick taken after his haircut, the one he'd sent to him. "Michonne and Rick seem really cool," he says.  
Daryl grins. "Yeah, they really are. You'd like them. Michonne can come across as a bit harsh when you first meet her, but she's amazingly sweet. Rick is just like a dog in human form."  
"Yeah, I'm not sure they'd like me though," Jesus says, handing Daryl back his phone.  
Daryl looks up. "They would."  
Jesus gives him a small smile. "How would you know?"  
"Because I like you," he says and quickly adds, "and they wouldn't like anyone that I didn't like."  
Jesus gives a pleased little smile and looks away. "Well, then."  
Daryl looks up gratefully when their food comes and starts to eat. It's really good and Jesus, halfway through his bowl, says that they should make a thing of this. Daryl can't quite get the hang of his chopsticks and throws one at Jesus when he laughs as Daryl accidentally flicks a bamboo shoot onto the floor. Daryl points and laughs when Jesus gives himself noodle whiplash, splattering broth all over his face.  
"That was awesome," Daryl says when he finishes, balling up his napkin and putting it into his empty bowl.  
"Yeah, it was," Jesus agrees but he doesn't sound like he's talking about the food.  
Daryl insists on paying with some of his con takings, much to Jesus's protests. They leave the restaurant and amble back to the apartment building. The evening is cool and clear, and as tired as Daryl is, he couldn't be happier right now, walking next to Jesus, listening to him talk about little things, laughing at his terrible jokes.  
They walk along in contented silence for a few moments.  
"At the risk of sounding like an idiot," Jesus says, scratching his neck, not looking at Daryl, "I kind of missed you this weekend. Everything I did, I just kept thinking "this would be so much more fun if Daryl were here"."  
Daryl's insides feel like they're about to boil and he stares fixedly at the sidewalk. "Yeah, I...uh...I missed you too. You would have got such a kick from the con." He refuses to look up at Jesus. "There's one here in New York in a couple of months. Maybe you could...come with me. I always get two passes."  
"I'd really like that," Jesus says and Daryl finally looks up, the smile on Jesus's face enough to make his heart want to explode.  
Daryl looks up at the darkening sky. "Well, then."  
They get back to the apartment building and Daryl starts to head up the stairs when Jesus calls him back.  
"What?" Daryl says as he comes back down. Jesus is stood in front of the mailboxes, looking shifty.  
"Keep an eye out," he says excitedly. "I'm going to look in Hobo Guy's mailbox."  
"What? You can't! Isn't that...illegal or something?" Daryl nervously looks up the stairs.  
Jesus gives him a pfft. "No." Then he looks uncertain. "I don't know, but I'm not stealing anything, for fuck's sake, I'm just going to get his name."  
Daryl steps over to him. "Well...hurry up..." He glances at the front door.  
Jesus grins, his eyes full of trouble, and Daryl suddenly thinks about how much fun it would have been to know Jesus as a kid, to be friends with him and do this kind of thing after school, spending summers together. Maybe in another life.  
Jesus carefully opens Hobo Guy's mailbox, the two of them freezing in terror when it makes a loud squeak. Daryl steps back a few feet and glances up the stairs. He comes back. "Come on..."  
"Okay, okay..." Jesus opens it the rest of the way and pulls out the papers inside, rifling though them awkwardly with his one hand. "It's all junk leaflets," he says disappointed and Daryl is too, caught up in the petty adventure. Suddenly the front door opens and they both squeal in fright, Jesus haphazardly stuffing the junk mail back into the box and running after Daryl up the stairs. For some reason, they run straight by Jesus's place and continue, stumbling and flailing, up to Daryl's apartment, bursting through the door and laughing hysterically, and a bit shakily, when the door slams closed.  
"It was Mrs Nesbit and her dog," Daryl manages to blurt out between laughs, which sets Jesus off again.  
"Oh man, we must have looked so suspicious! You screamed when the door opened!"  
"No, I didn't!" Daryl protests.  
Jesus takes his baseball cap off and tidies his hair. "You did, you totally did!"  
Daryl lunges forward and messes up Jesus's hair with both hands. "You did too AND you ran just as fast as I did up here!"  
Jesus ducks away from Daryl and sMichonneches his glasses off. "You did NOT just mess up my hair!" He dodges out of reach when Daryl tries to grab his glasses back. "Oh, you want these back, Blondie?"  
Daryl lets out a squawk and grapples Jesus around the waist, barrelling them both into the kitchen door, sending it flying back into the wall with a loud bang. Jesus laughs and gets Daryl in a headlock, which is surprisingly strong considering he just has one arm, Daryl's glasses still in his hand. Daryl starts to laugh uncontrollably and struggles weakly, trying to reach up to Jesus's hair again. There's a very loud series of bangs from the wall across the room and they both freeze in place for a second, before Jesus lets Daryl go and they snigger quietly to each other. Jesus hands Daryl back his glasses and they straighten themselves up.  
Jesus suddenly turns to the wall and shouts, "WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"  
Daryl yelps in horror and drags Jesus over to the couch. "What the fuck?" He hisses. "Don't do that!"  
Jesus smirks. "Why not? He wont do anything, you said so."  
"Yeah, but he's more likely to finally snap and break into my apartment and do stuff to me than go downstairs to your place!"  
Jesus gives a little snork. "He's not Buffalo Bill!"  
"He could be; who knows what he does in there all day?" Daryl suddenly imagines a fridge full of heads and lampshades made out of human skin.  
"Maybe he's a comic artist too..." Jesus says innocently and whoops when Daryl pushes him over the back of the couch. Jesus lies back laughing, eyes creased up, hand on his forehead as Daryl swipes at his legs and flops onto the couch next to him, smiling and rubbing his eyes.  
Jesus eventually sits up and tucks his hair behind his ear. "I've got another arm thing tomorrow," he says evenly, looking ahead, "and it's going to be...kind of crap. I...uh...can I come over when it's done? Not for long or anything, just...if I go straight back home I know I'll get..." he holds his hand up, not quite sure what to do with it.  
"Of course you can," Daryl says. "You don't have to ask."  
"I know, but...I might not be much fun."  
Daryl leans his head back. "You don't always have to be. I'll do whatever and you can just read comics or play games."  
Jesus nods, still staring ahead. He's quiet for moment before continuing. "It's a new kind of procedure...with the arm. They hook up my nerves or something and it's...kind of complicated and gross. But it means I'll have better use of it and..." He trails off.  
Daryl watches him for a minute, not sure what to say but not wanting to stop Jesus from talking about his arm. His barriers are slowly breaking and Daryl wants him to know that he can talk to him. "You can come here. Anytime you want. No matter how you feel."  
Jesus finally looks up at Daryl. He looks like he's trying to figure something out. He's about to say something when Daryl's phone rings. It's Michonne.  
"Oh shit," Daryl exclaims, sitting up. "I was meant to text Michonne..." He answers. "Hi Michonne, I'm so...no, I'm not dead...I know, I'm sorry...yes, I'm a terrible person...the worst, yes...yeah, I'm sure spiders will erupt from my eyes during the night...not my eyes? Then whe - ew! Michonne! Well, you're one too so I guess you would know...yeah, I love you too...bye."  
Jesus chuckles as Daryl hangs up. "That sounded like the best weird conversation from this end."  
Daryl puts his phone on the table. "She worries about me."  
Jesus sighs and scoots to the edge of the couch. "I'd better go. I need to be up stupid early in the morning."  
Daryl walks with him to the door. "I could make dinner, if you think you'd be up for food?" he offers.  
"You don't have to do that."  
"I know. I was thinking about making chicken teriyaki anyway."  
Jesus raises his eyebrows. "Chicken teriyaki, huh? Okay, I guess I'll let you make me dinner."  
Daryl laughs softly and pushes him out of the door. "Now get off my property."  
Jesus stands in the hallway for a moment, a big smile slowly spreading across his face as he watches Daryl.  
"What are you - " Daryl begins but then Jesus runs to Hobo Guy's apartment door and knocks loudly three times before running off down the stairs as fast as he can, laughing madly as he does.  
"You asshole!" Daryl manages to shout after him before slamming his door and locking it. He steps away quickly and listens, head cocked towards Hobo Guy's place. Nothing. He grabs his phone from the table and texts Jesus.  
DARYL: I cannot believe you did that. He's going to break in here and make a suit out of my skin  
JESUS: Then we'd know he has good taste in clothes  
DARYL: I hope he makes me into a stew and offers you some and you eat it and don't realise that you're eating me  
JESUS: Eat you, huh?  
Daryl blushes from his chest to his hairline. He's never been much good at flirting and has no idea if this is or not. He waits for a moment, agonising over what to send next.  
DARYL: Only the good parts  
JESUS: I guess I'd have to eat the whole thing  
Daryl swallows and manages a smile before realising that he's getting very warm, the red in his face eventually heading somewhere else the more he thinks about Jesus. He grabs his suitcase and drags it to the bedroom, intent on unpacking, trying to focus his mind on something else. It takes all of three minutes for him to acknowledge that that's not going to happen and he goes to take a shower.

***

Daryl had set his alarm for 8:30am on Monday morning - the latest he's ever intended on staying in bed - knowing he'll need the sleep, the con having drained him physically and mentally. His phone vibrates at 8:10am.  
MICHONNE: I don't believe it. I'm ill. I NEVER get ill  
DARYL: Oh dear, what is it?  
MICHONNE: I've lost my voice and I'm coughing up sludge  
DARYL: Gross. Are you in bed?  
MICHONNE: I couldn't get up if I tried. Won't be able to speak today :(  
DARYL: Stay in bed, get some lemons  
MICHONNE: Ha ha ha (sarcasm) So how was your date with Jesus?  
DARYL: It wasn't a date, we just went for dinner  
MICHONNE: Yeah, that's a date  
DARYL: Whatever. I think he might have flirted with me but I can't be sure  
MICHONNE: Why not??  
DARYL: We were kind of talking about cannibalism...  
MICHONNE: ....I don't think I even want to ask  
DARYL: Stay in bed today. We'll talk when your voice is back  
MICHONNE: I'm watching Breaking Bad and doing nothing else

***

Daryl gets up and has a shower, then makes some breakfast and starts to catch up on his emails. Spencer has left him a message saying that he'll have feedback for issue 6 by Wednesday, which means that Daryl has time to do some of his own work and he suddenly gets excited to have a couple of days to himself. He mariMichonnees some chicken ready for later and wonders where Jesus goes for his "arm stuff" and if he goes alone. He thinks he must do; Jesus has never mentioned any other friends in the time he and Daryl have spent together. He can't imagine Jesus not having any other friends - he's funny and charismatic, confident and seemingly at ease with all the socially normal things that Daryl finds hard to do. Michonne, Rick and Glenn would say otherwise but it was a slow Espinosa for Daryl to climb to be able to feel comfortable enough, especially with Rick and Glenn, to finally be himself. Jesus was charming and forthcoming the first time they met and Daryl can't imagine other people not wanting to be around him. Why he decided that he wanted to be friends with Daryl still perplexes him but he's trying very hard to give himself some credit, just like Michonne is always telling him to do.  
He sits at his desk, preparing to work and looks at the sketches of the new characters he made for Winter Soldier. He considers something for a long while.

***

Jesus texts him at 2:20pm.  
JESUS: Just getting back. Will be up in a bit?  
DARYL: Whenever you want. How are you?  
JESUS: Exhausted  
Jesus looks tired when Daryl answers the door and his eyes are red and puffy, like he's been crying. Daryl instantly feels concerned but Jesus gives him a wan smile and comes in, the books Daryl lent him tucked under his new left arm. He sees Daryl looking and holds up the books.  
"I couldn't do this before." He winces and lowers it, shifting the books to under his right arm. He's still wearing a glove on the hand of the prosthesis and is back in his usual hoodie and jeans combo.  
Daryl steps forward. "Wow, so it's like really advanced?"  
Jesus nods. "The other one had some function in the fingers but it was a bit more...superficial? I don't know. They tell me all this junk and half the time I don't know what they're saying and zone out. I shouldn't really."  
Daryl nods and Jesus suddenly holds out his left hand, prompting Daryl to take it. Daryl takes it and the fingers, Jesus's fingers, curl around his own and they shake hands lightly. It feels hard, Daryl thinks he can sense metal through the glove, but it doesn't feel weird. He wonders if Jesus can feel anything through it. He lets go.  
Jesus rubs one of his eyes. "God, I'm wiped. It's weird, the level of concentration I have to give just to do simple things with this thing. I feel like I'll never get used to it. I have a million exercises I need to do every day and it's so much more difficult than I..." He lets out a shaky breath and looks away.  
Daryl puts a hand on Jesus's shoulder. "Go and rest."  
Jesus looks up at him gratefully. "I can't thank you enough...for just..." He lowers his head.  
"It's okay," Daryl says and walks Jesus over to the couch. Jesus sits down and finally gives Daryl a little smile. "I was reading From Hell on the ride back. I don't think it helped my mood any."  
Daryl laughs. "Yikes. I'd stick with 100 Bullets. Can I get you anything?"  
"No, I'm good," Jesus says.  
Daryl indicates the music playing from his laptop. "I can put something else on?"  
"No, I like your music," Jesus says and Daryl smiles.  
He heads back to his desk and sits down. Jesus scoots down on the couch and opens From Hell. They sit in silence for the better part of the afternoon, Daryl drawing, Jesus reading. Jesus falls asleep with From Hell splayed across his chest and Daryl turns the volume down on his laptop.  
At 6 o'clock, he heads into the kitchen and starts to make dinner, trying to be as quiet as he can. He's cooking the chicken when he hears a noise behind him. Jesus is leaning on the kitchen counter rubbing his eyes. He looks unbearably cute and Daryl has to hold back a smile.  
"I didn't mean to fall asleep. Can I help with anything?"  
"Nope, I've got this. Do you want to watch something while we eat?"  
Jesus gives a little nod. "Something I've seen a million times before, maybe? I don't think I could concentrate on anything new."  
"You can pick. Go on in, I wont be long."  
Jesus heads back into the living room and Daryl checks the rice.  
When he walks in with two plates of food, Jesus is sat cross-legged on the sofa, the title screen for Commando on the TV.  
"Oh, I haven't seen this for ages," Daryl says and hands Jesus a plate.  
"Thanks," Jesus says. "Yeah, mindless action and bad puns. Perfect dinner viewing."  
Daryl laughs and sits down. Jesus takes a mouthful of the chicken teriyaki.  
"Holy crap, this is good. This is really good."  
Daryl beams.

***

They finish Commando, Daryl's gut aching from laughing at Jesus's terrible but hilarious Arnie impressions, and Daryl takes the dishes to the kitchen and starts to wash up. Jesus follows him in and tries to hustle him away from the sink.  
"Come on, Daryl - at least let me do the dishes."  
"Nope," Daryl says and turns his back on him.  
"But you - "  
"Nope."  
"Don't be a - "  
"Nope."  
Jesus makes a frustrated noise and Daryl giggles. "Fine, but I'm not happy about this." He pokes Daryl in the ribs and Daryl makes an embarrassing squeal. Jesus wanders back into the living room.  
"Can I put your music back on?" he calls.  
"Sure," Daryl says. "It should just be paused. Knock yourself out."  
Daryl finishes the dishes and dries off his hands. He grabs his sketchbook and a pencil from his desk before heading back to the couch, heart pounding slightly.  
He sits down and opens his sketchbook and Jesus looks up from his graphic novel. "What are you drawing?"  
Daryl scratches his cheek. "Well, I was wondering...um...how would you like to be a character in Winter Soldier? Only a small one, but he'll be in a couple of scenes in a later issue. You can say no, I just thought..."  
Jesus looks overjoyed. "Are you fucking kidding me? Hell yes!"  
Daryl smiles, relieved. "I already started some sketches but I thought...you'd make a great character. Um, I'd need to do some reference sketches of you, if that's okay, and then I'll do a design in my comic book style."  
"This is the coolest thing ever. What do you need me to do?"  
Daryl turns to a blank double page spread. "Just carry on reading and I'll sketch you, if you're okay with that? Maybe just face this way but you can move around and stuff."  
Jesus sits back against the arm of the couch, turning towards Daryl, suddenly unsure of what to do with his face. Daryl laughs. "Honestly, just read and forget that I'm doing this."  
Daryl starts to sketch and Jesus looks up every two seconds for a few minutes before finally settling back into his book. Daryl sketches him, drawing a few headshots from the front, focusing harder than he really needs to on Jesus's eyes.  
"Could you sit at an angle?" Daryl asks after twenty minutes. Jesus shifts and gives Daryl an is-this-okay look. Daryl nods and draws Jesus in profile, his stomach churning, giddy at being able to stare at him for this long. When he has enough reference he sits back.  
"Okay, I'm done. You can sit however you like now."  
"Can I see?" Jesus asks excitedly.  
Daryl angles his sketchbook away. "Not yet. Wait until I've done the full character design."  
Jesus mewls but gets back to his reading. Occasionally stealing glances at Daryl's sketchbook in the hopes that he can see something. Daryl sketches Jesus's character as a full-body shot, drawing him in the clothes he wore last night and hesitating at the left arm. He decides to draw it with the sleeve pinned up. The character design is in his comic style, but there's no doubt that it's Jesus. Daryl is surprised and a little bit embarrassed that he's managed to capture Jesus's body language in the sketch; he's leaning on one foot, head tilted slightly, cocky and confident. Daryl is suddenly nervous about showing Jesus the drawings, worried that it'll be totally obvious how he feels about him.  
"Have you finished?" Jesus's voice breaks into Daryl's thoughts and he turns to him.  
"Um, yeah. I hope you like it. If you want me to change anything, you can tell me...I don't want you to be unhappy with it..." He hands the sketchbook to Jesus and watches his face.  
Jesus blinks at the two pages of sketches, his face neutral and Daryl's heart sinks. Oh god, he hates it, I've offended him, he knows...  
"I don't...fucking hell..." Jesus finally breathes and he looks up at Daryl and the look on his face tells Daryl that he doesn't hate them. "These are..." He shakes his head.  
Daryl clears his throat, not trusting that his voice won't sound like he's just hit puberty. "Do you like it?"  
Jesus gives a little chuff. "I love it," he says quietly. "I...you've made me look a lot more handsome than I really am..."  
"I just drew you as you are," Daryl says quietly and Jesus swallows, still looking at the picture.  
"I'm glad you drew my arm this way." He says after a minute and Daryl is relieved. They sit in a silence that Daryl can't quite define for a moment.  
"So, do you think they'll like it? Your editor and the writer?" Jesus asks, handing Daryl his sketchbook back, eyes still on the drawing.  
Daryl nods. "I think so; it's pretty much my call with smaller characters. If not, I'll convince them." He looks up at Jesus with a smile and Jesus just shakes his head at him.  
"What?" Daryl asks with a grin.  
Jesus looks away, a small smile on the his lips. "Nothing. You're just...you're really cool."  
Daryl closes his sketchbook and quickly stands up. "Can I get you a drink?"  
Jesus stands up too. "No, I think I'm going to head off. Thanks so much for dinner and for putting up with me."  
Daryl rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you're such a hassle to hang out with."  
Jesus punches him lightly on the arm with his left hand. "Can I pick up some more books tomorrow?"  
Daryl nods. "I have a podcast to do in the evening but I actually don't have any deadlines so come over whenever you want."  
When Jesus opens the front door, Daryl side-steps around him into the corridor, putting himself between Jesus and Hobo Guy's apartment door. Jesus laughs and holds up both of his hands. "I wont do anything, I promise."  
Daryl folds his arms and tries to look stern. "Yeah, keep walking."

***

The next morning, after he's started some doodles for a comic project that he's thinking about self-publishing, Daryl scans in the sketches of Jesus with all the intention of sending them to Spencer, but mainly of sending them to Michonne. He texts her.  
DARYL: Are you alive?  
MICHONNE: Barely. Still can't speak. Rick is having a great time tormenting me  
DARYL: I have pictures of Jesus. Well, sketches anyway  
MICHONNE: SEND THEM NOW  
DARYL: Meet me on Skype  
A few minutes later, Michonne's profile pops up.  
captain_Dixon: Okay, I'm submitting this as a character design for a minor character in Winter Soldier  
He attaches the sketches and waits for Michonne to reply.  
black_widow: Okay, I don't believe for a second that he looks like this. No-one is this good looking  
captain_Dixon: That's Jesus  
black_window: Fuck me, Daryl. Or rather, I hope he fucks you  
captain_Dixon: MICHONNE  
black_widow: You know I'm going to need a photo to compare these to. I don't quite trust your artistic license  
captain_Dixon: We'll see

***

At 12:45pm, as Daryl is finishing lunch, Jesus calls him.  
"Um, I've got a leaking something on my kitchen sink and I don't know what to do. There's water all over the floor and I can't get the super on the phone."  
"Ugh, yeah, the super in this place is useless. Hang on, I'll come down." Daryl hangs up and grabs his toolbox from under his own sink.  
Jesus looks pissed off when he answers the door, barefoot, his jeans wet at the cuffs. "This fucking sucks!" he exclaims and then looks down at Daryl's toolbox. He looks up with an amused smile on his face.  
"What?" Daryl asks, as he steps into the small hallway.  
Jesus closes the door and they walk through to the kitchen. "I kind of never figured you as being the toolbox type."  
"Hey, I know some manly, DIY things. I live on my own - I need to know how to fix junk." Daryl stares down at the wet kitchen floor, some towels spread about. He recognises a couple from the first day he met Jesus.  
Jesus throws his arms up. Daryl can't quite get used to seeing him make symmetrical arm gestures. "Look at this shit."  
Daryl takes his shoes and socks off and heads to the sink. He opens the cupboard, looking at the pipes and immediately sees the leak. He turns off the water at the valve.  
"Yeah, I think this pipe is leaking. I'm just going to have a look. Do you have a big bowl?"  
Jesus roots through a cupboard. "Yeah, I didn't think to put a bowl under there. I just saw all the water and panicked." He hands Daryl a plastic mixing bowl.  
Daryl carefully unscrews and releases the pipe, and the built up water spills into the bowl. He sets it aside and looks at the cylinder. "There's a small crack on here, but I think I can fix it." He shuffles about in his toolbox and finds a rubber seal and clamp. Jesus looks on, face slightly agog.  
"Shit," he says. "This is too small. I'll have to get another one."  
Jesus rubs his left arm. "I can't believe you know how to do this."  
Daryl stands back up and shrugs, secretly pleased that Jesus seems impressed. "I picked some stuff up; I got so fed up waiting to have small things fixed I just read books and watched YouTube videos and tried some things myself. Turns out it's not all that hard."  
Jesus gives a sceptical snort. "Oh yeah, it's a cake walk."  
"There's a hardware store a few blocks down. I can get a new clamp." He bends down and shuffles about in the toolbox again. "Maybe I'll get some resin too, just to be safe."  
"Okay, but I'm paying you for this if you can fix it."  
Daryl shakes his head. "Don't be an idiot. The clamp and resin won't cost much and it's no hassle."  
"Dude, this is - "  
Daryl holds up a hand. "Fine, just...buy me noodles next time we go back to that ramen place."  
Jesus nods. "Okay."  
Daryl puts his shoes and socks back on. "It won't take me long to get the stuff. I've turned the water off so if you need - "  
"I'm coming too. I'm not letting you do all the work. I kind of feel bad for dragging you down here now."  
Daryl gives him a shrug. "It's fine. I haven't got any pressing artwork on for today. And it's kind of fun - I don't fix things that often."  
Jesus looks at Daryl, biting his lower lip. " Just when I think I've figured you out..."  
Daryl looks for a beat too long at Jesus's lips and almost trips over his toolbox on the way out of the kitchen. "Come on."

***

The hardware store isn't far and it's a nice day outside, sunny, quiet and mundane, which makes Daryl all the more surprised when it happens. They're about two blocks away from the store, passing a large garbage truck hauling and emptying cans, a few garbage men scurrying about the street, grabbing more garbage cans and carrying them back to the truck. Daryl walks on for a few seconds before he realises that Jesus isn't walking beside him anymore. He looks back and his breath catches in his throat. Jesus is stood in the middle of the sidewalk, frozen, a look on his face that Daryl hasn't seen before on him but is all too familiar with. Jesus's eyes are wide and he looks...terrified. His arms are at his sides and his shoulders are hunched. Daryl can see from where his is that Jesus is breathing too shallowly. He hurries over to him.  
"Jesus?" he says softly, Jesus's eyes are not quite focused on the here and now. There's a sheen of sweat on his face and he's shaking slightly. He doesn't answer. Daryl starts to panic, but then forces himself to calm down. If he panics now, he'll be no use to Jesus at all. He thinks about Rick and what he does when Daryl has a panic attack. He's pretty sure this is what's happening to Jesus but it looks so much worse than the ones he's had. He puts his hands on Jesus's shoulders, pressing down firmly and looks Jesus in the eyes.  
"Jesus? I need you to look at me." He's thankful that he doesn't sound as scared as he feels.  
Jesus's eyes focus slightly and he looks at Daryl, his breathing suddenly accelerating, the fear in his eyes palpable. He's starting to hyperventilate.  
Daryl looks around quickly and sees an alleyway a few metres down the street, away from the garbage truck. He quickly steers Jesus towards it, one arm across his shoulders, his other hand pressing on Jesus's chest. Shit, his heart is hammering. His movements are stilted and heavy. Daryl manages to get him into the alleyway, which is dim and quiet. Jesus's breathing sounds horrible in the confined space and Daryl's own fear rises in him, threatening to take him over too if he doesn't act quickly. He sits Jesus down on the concrete floor, which isn't very clean and kneels in front of him.  
Jesus is looking at the floor, sagging against the wall, his breathes coming out in huge, wheezing sobs. His face is now drenched with sweat and his hair is clinging to his damp forehead. Daryl wipes Jesus's hair away and holds his face in his hands and meets his eyes.  
"Jesus? You have to look at me, okay? You're with Daryl and we're in an alleyway in New York."  
Jesus's eyes roll and he's trying to look elsewhere. Daryl shakes Jesus's head slightly, still holding his face. "No, Jesus - look at me. It's okay. I'm here."  
Jesus finally focuses on Daryl's face and says "Daryl?" his voice small and terrified, ragged around his breathing.  
"I'm here, Jesus. You're not alone. We're in a really smelly alleyway and I'm pretty sure we're sitting in garbage juice, but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."  
Jesus looks at him and gives a small nod and Daryl can see that's he's trying to calm down, trying to control his breathing. He's shaking so badly, Daryl can feel it vibrating through his own body. I have to keep talking to him, Daryl thinks and the panic starts to rise again when he can't think of anything to talk about, his mind suddenly going horribly blank. He shifts to Jesus's side, sitting next to him against the wall. Jesus's arms are hanging limp between his legs which are splayed out in front of him on the hard concrete, breathing still laboured.  
Daryl wraps one arm around Jesus's shoulder and the other across his chest and Jesus immediately grabs Daryl's arm with his own, his left hand surprisingly tight.  
"Just listen to my voice," Daryl says softy. "Just focus on my voice and you'll be okay." Jesus nods, harder this time and Daryl desperately searches for something to say. Come on, say anything, do anything, fucking sing if you have to. The only song that Daryl can think of all the lyrics to at the moment is California Girls by The Beach Boys and if this were anywhere else, any other situation, he would NOT be doing this. He starts to sing in a high, shaky voice.  
"Well, East Coast girls are hip, I really dig those styles they wear..."  
He stumbles a couple of times and hits the chorus way too high, but soon relaxes a tiny bit, singing it over and over, Jesus's breathing eventually slowing down, his shaking subsiding. He rests his head against Daryl's. Daryl continues to sing until he can feel that Jesus's breathing is somewhere approaching normal. He stops singing after a couple of minutes and rubs his hand up and down Jesus's arm.  
"How we doing?" He asks quietly.  
He can feel Jesus nod. "I think I'm okay," he says weakly and Daryl's heart breaks a little.  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
Jesus's grip on Daryl's arm tightens slightly. "I don't know what happened. There was a noise, I think from the garbage truck...I don't...even remember..." He makes a small choked sound in his throat.  
Daryl holds him tighter. "It's okay, you don't have to talk if you don't want to."  
"I'm sorry..." Jesus says.  
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Daryl whispers and before he knows what he's doing, he runs a hand through Jesus's hair. He quickly lowers it, but Jesus just makes a small sighing sound. They sit in silence for a while, Daryl has lost track of how long they've been here, on the hard, cold floor, amongst garbage cans and cigarette butts, the city beyond the alley carrying on as normal.  
Jesus finally starts to shift and Daryl lets go of him, the air around him suddenly cool and empty without Jesus's body heat against him. He stands up and helps Jesus to his feet. The backs of both of their jeans are dirty and damp - they were sitting in garbage juice - but Daryl doesn't care. Jesus leans against the wall for a moment.  
Daryl gently reaches out and puts his hand on Jesus's arm. "Let's go home."  
Jesus shakes his head, face ashen, but determined. "No, I want to carry on. I can't...can't let it..."  
"Okay, we'll carry on. But if you start to feel bad, you have to tell me."  
Jesus meets Daryl's eyes and nods.  
Daryl starts to head out of the alleyway, when Jesus grasps his arm. Daryl turns around and Jesus looks embarrassed and tired and spent. "I...thank you, Daryl. I don't know what I would have done..."  
Daryl gives him a sad smile. "I know what it feels like. I'm glad I was here. I don't know how helpful I was but..."  
Jesus's grip tightens slightly. "You helped." He hesitates a moment and then pulls Daryl into a hug, his arms around Daryl's neck. Daryl is motionless for a few seconds, then hesitantly wraps his arms around Jesus's waist. He can feel how warm Jesus is, his head resting against the crook of Daryl's neck and time stops for a moment. Daryl leans his head against Jesus's shoulder, breathing in sweat and coconut and another smell that's just...Jesus. They stand, arms around each other for a few minutes before Jesus breaks away. Daryl drops his arms quickly and steps back.  
They look at each other for a moment before Jesus says, "God, it really does smell in here."  
Daryl gives a chuckle and they leave the alleyway and head to the hardware store.

***

Daryl fixes Jesus's sink, Jesus making an impressed noise when Daryl turns the water back on and the pipe remains dry. Jesus looks tired and edgy, on the verge of saying something about ten times but just folding his arms instead. It's 4:45pm and Jesus has apologised at least a million times for wasting Daryl's day.  
Daryl picks up his toolbox and heads towards the front door. "Do you want to come up?" he asks.  
Jesus puts his hands in his hoodie pocket. "I think I'm going to sleep. I feel...not great."  
Daryl puts his toolbox down and leans on the wall. "If you want to talk or...anything, you can call me or come up. Don't ever think that you're putting me out."  
Jesus frowns and looks away. "You...you're such a good person, you know that?" he blurts out.  
Daryl doesn't know how to respond. Today has been intense to say the least and he's used up pretty much all of his emotions at this point. He can't even manage a blush.  
"Jesus, I..."  
Jesus steps forward. "No, you are. I can't even..." he sounds flustered, like he needs to say this. "You met me last week and you're already like my...my best friend." He looks at the floor. "My ONLY friend," he whispers.  
Daryl is slightly floored. "Best friend?" he asks, with a thrilled little smile. Jesus looks up and the frown on his face fades.  
"See?" he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "How do you do that? I feel like a total idiot for...for earlier and an asshole for putting you through all my shit and you just...just act like it's all okay for me to do this and like you want to be my...friend..."  
"Of course I want to be your friend," Daryl says. "You're awesome."  
They stand in Jesus's hallway, stinking of garbage, tired and damp, and however their relationship was defined this morning, it's shifted somehow, into something else and they can both feel it.  
Jesus leans forward and gives Daryl a little punch on the arm. "Punk."  
Daryl kicks Jesus lightly on the shin. "Jerk."  
"See you tomorrow? Jesus asks.  
"You'd better."

***

Daryl takes part in his podcast, pleased that the days events don't hinder how he comes across, enjoying the discussion, a strange calm settling over him for the rest of the evening.  
He isn't going to tell Michonne about Jesus's panic attack. That's between the two of them and even though Daryl has kept her and Rick informed of pretty much everything Jesus related (and relayed more sexual information about himself than he'd ever want anyone to know about), what happened earlier isn't for anyone else to be aware of. Daryl can still feel the terror of seeing Jesus, helpless and frozen in the middle of the street, of his own panic at not knowing what to do but then thankfully, miraculously, pulling it together. He can still feel the warmth of Jesus against him, how good he smelled and how everything is now...different between them. He shoves away that small ember of hope that keeps threatening to glow brighter because if it catches, and the fire rages out of control, there will be no hope if reigning it back in.  
He can hardly sleep that night, staring into the darkness, turning to look at the clock and wincing when only fifteen or twenty minutes have passed. It's 1:45am when his phone rings and he panics when he sees that it's Jesus.  
"Jesus? What's wrong? Are you okay?"  
"Shit, I'm sorry, Daryl - I'm fine, nothing's wrong. I'm okay." He sounds thankful for Daryl's concern, and Daryl is relieved that Jesus sounds more like Jesus.  
Daryl flops back onto his pillow. "Then why the fuck are you calling me at nearly two in the morning?"  
"I got Hobo Guy's name," Jesus says and Daryl wants to laugh at the sheer manic exhilaration in Jesus's voice.  
"What?" Daryl says, sitting up. "How? What is it?"  
"Come down to mine and I'll tell you," and then he hangs up, knowing full well that Daryl will go. He jumps out of bed, putting his glasses back on and pulling on his pyjama pants and heads to the front door, not quite believing that he's doing this, feeling about twelve years old. He quietly locks his front door and pads down to Jesus's apartment. Jesus is waiting, peering through his half open door, wearing a different hoodie and grey jogging pants and quickly pulls Daryl inside. The small hallway is dark, a lamp on in the living room somewhere.  
"Okay," Jesus says quietly, Daryl just about able to see him in the dark, "I went back down and looked through his mail again - "  
"Jesus!" Daryl says, hushed, as though anyone can hear them.  
"No-one was around, it was fine!" Daryl can feel Jesus's breath on his face; he smells like chocolate milk.  
"So, what is it?" Daryl asks.  
Jesus pauses dramatically. "Abraham Ford," he announces, barely able to hold in his excitement.  
Daryl feels disappointed but then, he isn't entirely sure what he expected to feel. "Is that it?"  
Jesus gives a snort of disbelief. "What do mean, is that it? That's an amazing name!"  
"It's totally average," Daryl says.  
"Daryl, that is the name of a guy with a huge gnarly beard who...who makes friends with bears and lives in the woods!"  
Daryl laughs, doubling over slightly, his head butting Jesus's chest. "No it's not! It's the name of some guy who lives next door to me who never leaves his apartment. Also, if his name is Abraham on his mail, that means his name is Paul which is YOUR name too!"  
"No, he's totally into some shady shit, I can feel it. I bet he works for the government or something. And if you ever call me Abraham or Paul, you would no longer be my friend."  
Daryl laughs harder and Jesus jabs Daryl in the shoulder. "How can you not be excited by this?"  
Daryl straightens and gathers himself. "I am excited, I just, I don't know, expected a better name."  
Jesus huffs out a breath and Daryl realises how close they are in the dark hallway. He can see Jesus watching him, his eyes glittering, and Daryl's body is suddenly racing with adrenaline because he's seriously considering kissing Jesus and he's pretty sure, almost certain, that Jesus is considering kissing him too when a door slams on the floor above and they both suddenly jump and look at each other as they hear heavy, clumping footfalls coming down the stairs.  
Jesus whispers, "Holy shit - it's him! It has to be him!" and reaches for the doorknob.  
Daryl grabs his hand. "What the fuck are you doing?! Don't open the door!"  
They listen as whoever it is descends the next flight and then Jesus pushes Daryl away and runs out of the front door. Daryl yelps and follows him out, staying on the landing as Jesus races down the stairs. He comes back up two minutes later.  
"Fucking shit-bags - he just disappeared!"  
Relief floods Daryl's body. They won't be getting made into curtains tonight, at least. "I can't believe that just happened."  
Jesus pushes Daryl lightly on the shoulder. "We would have seen him if you had let me open the door."  
"I just stopped you from having your skull being made into a fruit bowl. So, you know, you're welcome."  
Jesus laughs and looks around the empty landing. "What the fuck are we doing?"  
Daryl stretches his arms. "YOU dragged me down here at 2am to tell me about some guy's name."  
"Well, if I was tired before, I'm wide awake now. Want to watch a movie?" He jabs a thumb at his apartment.  
Daryl knows that staying up most of the night will mean he'll be technically useless to work tomorrow, but if it means spending more time with Jesus, he'll do it. "I can go and get Watchmen?"  
Jesus's eyes widen. "Yes. Go get it now."  
Daryl runs back upstairs and grabs the DVD. Jesus has left his apartment door open a crack and Daryl let's himself in. He heads to the living room. Jesus comes out of his bedroom with two blankets and throws one at Daryl. "Here."  
Daryl hands Jesus the DVD and flops onto the sofa, putting the blanket over his legs. Jesus grabs the remote and sits down next to Daryl, closer then Daryl expected, Jesus's leg touching his. He turns to him while the DVD churns.  
"Hey, how are you feeling?"  
Jesus looks at him and lowers his eyes. "Okay. Still a bit shaky."  
"If you wanted me to come down, you didn't have to put on the whole Hobo Guy thing," Daryl says quietly.  
Jesus bites his lip and shakes his head slightly. "I know," he says. "I just wanted things to be...fun again. Not so...you know."  
"You don't have to hold it all back, not for me." Daryl forces himself not to look away.  
Jesus looks at Daryl with such a look of gratitude, it makes Daryl's chest hurt. "I know."  
Daryl finally looks away and Jesus starts the movie.

***

Daryl makes the mistake of resting his head on a cushion against the armrest about a third of the way into the movie, because he falls asleep not long after, his leg still touching Jesus's. He's dimly aware at one point, of Jesus getting up to get a glass of water, and gently taking Daryl's glasses off when he comes back. Daryl can't be sure, through the veil of sleep, but he thinks he can feel Jesus stroke his cheek softly.  
He wakes into the early morning grey haze of Jesus's apartment, confused as to where he is. Propping himself on one elbow, he sees Jesus asleep on at the other end of the couch, blanket pulled up to his chin but rumpled in a heap at his waist, his legs tangled with Daryl's on the middle cushion. Daryl sits up as quietly as he can and pulls Jesus's blanket down so it covers his legs. He stares at Jesus's face in the dim light, having to squint without his glasses. Jesus looks so peaceful, his lips parted slightly, his long eyelashes against his cheek and Daryl wants more than anything to lean across and lie alongside him, to bury his face in Jesus's neck and feel him breathing.  
He lies back against his own cushion and dozes.

***

He wakes up a few hours later with the world's stiffest neck, head almost hanging off of the armrest. He already knows the rest of the couch is empty because he feels cold. He sits up and looks around. Jesus comes out of the kitchen with two mugs and immediately starts to laugh.  
"Oh wow, that is the best morning hair I've ever seen."  
Daryl makes a noise and runs a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it.  
Jesus hands him a mug; the coffee smells strong.  
"Thanks," Daryl says, his voice croaky.  
Jesus sits back down on his end of the couch with his own mug.  
"What time is it?" Daryl asks, realising that he left his phone up in his own apartment.  
"About 9:45," Jesus says.  
Daryl grunts and takes a sip of coffee. "Did you enjoy the movie?"  
Jesus nods. "Yeah, I really did. I kind of liked what they did with the ending; I think the whole alien thing would have been a bit too weird. Rorschach though, that guy was amazing."  
Daryl smiles. "Yeah, he nailed it. He's such an asshole and a tragic character at the Spencere time."  
Jesus nods. "And the whole Dr Manhattan sequence was just amazing, how he gets transformed. I never thought I'd be into a comic this much."  
Daryl nudges Jesus with his foot. "You're welcome."  
Jesus grabs Daryl's foot and tickles the bottom of it, laughing in victory when Daryl shrieks and lurches forward, slopping coffee onto the wood floor. "Never do that again," he says, tucking his legs under him.  
They watch an episode of Judge Judy and then Daryl, reluctantly, says he has to get back upstairs to work. Jesus wanders to the door with him.  
"I owe you noodles," Jesus says.  
"For my amazing plumbing skills, hell yes you do."  
"Meet me here at six?"  
Daryl smiles and heads up the stairs. "It would be my genuine pleasure," and he hears Jesus laugh.

***

He has about 8 texts and two missed calls from Michonne, which means she must be feeling better. He switches on his laptop and goes to his room to grab one of his own hoodies, his favourite blue one and zips it up. A Skype call comes through almost straight away.  
"Where the hell have you been?" Michonne says, sounding a bit worse for wear, voice breaking where she's still obviously ill.  
Daryl decides to give her a thrill. "Sorry, I left my phone here last night."  
There's a lengthy silence before she says, "What do you mean?"  
"I spent the night at Jesus's," Daryl tries to keep the smile out of his voice and feign nonchalance.  
Michonne starts to shriek something that turns into a horrible coughing fit and he hears her leave the desk and head into another room. There's a beat of silence before he hears frantic footsteps running back to the microphone.  
"You sneaky little shit!" She says, her voice ecstatic.  
"Nothing happened," Daryl says hastily. "I fell asleep while we were watching Watchmen."  
Michonne lets out a disappointed groan. "So you didn't play around with each other's bits?"  
"I wouldn't tell you if we did!" Daryl says indignantly.  
There's a muffled cough as a reply.  
"How are you feeling?" Daryl asks.  
"Don't change the subject. Who cares how I am. You spent the night at Jesus's. This is a big development."  
Daryl gives a hum of agreement. "Maybe. Things feel...different. Since Sunday."  
Michonne doesn't leave Daryl alone until she gets the full story and by the end has pretty much lost her voice again.

***

The next few weeks pass in a dizzying haze; Daryl sees Jesus every day. He usually comes over after lunch, just to read while Daryl does work. Daryl finds Jesus's presence somehow calming, filling a hole in his apartment that Daryl didn't even realise existed and his productivity seems to soar. Spencer loves the character design based on Jesus and Daryl even gets a grudging email from Negan saying why the hell did he have to give that character one arm, because that somehow makes him a hell of a lot more interesting and now he's thinking about writing him into the story as part of a bigger arc. Daryl doesn't tell them that the design is based on a real person. When Daryl shows Negan's email to Jesus, Jesus flushes a shade of red usually reserved for Daryl. He wears an odd little smile on his face for the rest of the day.  
They eat dinner together a lot, either at Daryl's or out at the ramen place. Jesus attempts dinner a couple of times, making a pretty good spaghetti bolognaise one evening that ends up having a lot more garlic in it than they both thought. They end up play-fighting on Jesus's couch, breathing garlic breath onto each other until they both start to feel sick and have to stop. Daryl is glad they do because at one point, Jesus's hand grazes his crotch and he can feel embarrassing things start to happen. Jesus doesn't notice, thank god.  
Daryl defuses a plan of Jesus's to dress up as a delivery guy and attempt to lure Hobo Guy - Abraham Ford - out of his place.  
Jesus attempts to get Daryl dancing a few more times, his new arm able to do more than his old one and Daryl often just sits, enraptured, watching as Jesus body-pops his way around the space in the living room, a couple of times letting himself be persuaded to learn a few moves.  
Jesus tells Daryl that he attends therapy sessions three times a week. He admits to Daryl that this scares him, that he needs it so badly, that he doesn't feel like he'll ever be right again. He doesn't talk about his time in Afghanistan, not yet, and Daryl doesn't push. He doesn't have any more panic attacks though for which Daryl is thankful.  
Daryl tells Jesus about the time in High School when Georges Batroc and Danny Leighton beat him up so badly, they fractured his left arm in three places. Daryl confesses quietly that he'd never felt so utterly worthless than at that point in time and Jesus puts his arm around Daryl and says, "You're worth more than ten of most people."  
He's quicker to touch Daryl than he was; putting a hand on his arm when they crack up laughing over something stupid, or throwing an arm around his shoulder when they go to the ramen place. Daryl starts to do the Spencere, becoming less worried about what things could mean and how they should be deciphered, just letting them happen. Looking back, he's glad they didn't kiss that night in Jesus's hallway, if that's what was going to happen - it could have been a huge mistake. Jesus was in a bad place that day despite his playfulness and it would have been all wrong. If anything does happen, it should be when he's in a good place and Daryl hopes (although a part of him refuses to embrace it and spoil everything) that they're maybe heading that way.  
Michonne and Rick treat his time with Jesus like a massive soap opera, wheedling details out of him, giving not-so-useful suggestions on how to get Jesus into bed, much to Daryl's annoyance. One morning whilst talking to Michonne, before Jesus's usual time of arrival, she suggests, in all seriousness, about having a Skype chat between the four of them.  
"We really want to meet him and Skype is the only way. Even if it's not a video call."  
Daryl is reluctant. "I don't know, it might not be the right time. I'd feel weird about it."  
Michonne sighs. "Okay, but we're honestly serious about this; we know we give you a hard time and tease but this guy means a lot to you and we want to be his friend too."  
Daryl smiles. "I know, Michonne. It means a lot to me, it really does. I just...I'm still finding my footing with things and I just want to see where it goes."  
Michonne gives a theatrical sigh. "Fine. But we still need to see a photo of him."  
Daryl finally does get a photo. Jesus drags him along to the Museum of Michonneural History to show him the Giant Squid and the Sperm Whale after Daryl says that he hadn't been since he was nine and doesn't remember it. They stare up at the diorama and Daryl gives a little chuff.  
"That's pretty cool."  
Jesus folds his arms and smiles. "I told you."  
"I didn't say that I didn't think it would be cool, just that if it was THAT cool, I would have remembered it."  
Daryl gets out his phone and snaps a couple of pictures. He's about to go and get one of the Blue Whale too, when Jesus pulls him back.  
"Let's get one with these guys in the background." He points to the squid and the whale. Daryl hands Jesus his phone and he sets it to selfie mode, Daryl's internal no-selfie rule going straight out of the window. Jesus moves close to Daryl, lining up the squid and the whale behind them and says, "Ready?" Daryl nods. The counter counts down and takes the photo.  
Jesus smiles at the picture and shows it to Daryl. "That's pretty cool," Daryl says, trying to sound nonchalant. He loves the picture; they look happy, leaning in towards each other, both smiling big lopsided smiles, the squid and the whale behind them. Daryl tucks his phone back into his pocket, actually excited about sending the picture to Michonne later.  
Jesus points up to the diorama. "You're totally the squid," he says to Daryl.  
"Why am I the squid?" Daryl doesn't agree with things that have more than four legs.  
"Because you're smaller than me."  
"Yeah, but not by much!"  
Jesus gives him a shrug. "Sorry, I just think I'd make a better whale than a squid."  
"Yeah, I guess," Daryl says in agreement. "Your ass is a lot fatter than mine."  
Jesus whoops and grabs Daryl in a headlock. Daryl starts to protest loudly and they end up tussling in the Hall Of Ocean Life, laughing hysterically. A teacher trying to talk to her class marches over and tells them to grow up and that they're causing a disturbance. They let go of each other and apologise, Daryl going redder than he has done for a while and Jesus holding back a laugh as the teacher re-joins the kids. He suddenly grabs Daryl in a headlock again and drags him off towards the Hall Of Mammals shouting: "This is what happens when you leave school and become grown-ups, kids! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS!" They run off laughing and Jesus suggests they find the T-Rex skeleton and try to figure out where his wiener would be.  
They're in a coffee place, a few hours later, tired and giggly, when Daryl sends Michonne the photo. Jesus goes to the bathroom and Daryl quickly attaches the picture to a text.  
A message comes through two minutes later.  
MICHONNE: Holy shit, you two look adorable together. And he is REALLY cute...  
DARYL: Told you :)  
They're on the subway, heading back home, Jesus humming Hold Me Now, when Daryl realises that he's never been as happy as he has been these last few weeks. He's never felt so like the person he's always wanted to be when he's with Jesus.  
Which makes it all the more devastating when things suddenly fall apart.  
Notes:  
Wow, a huge huge thanks to everyone who has commented on this and enjoyed it so far! I feel bad that I'm now wrecking the lives of almost everyone reading this with the last line of the story, but you knew it was going to happen, come on... :P  
I don't currently have a Tumblr account or many other social sites because I'm a loser with no confidence but hopefully I'll work on that. I appreciate all of the kind words from everyone.  
The next update may take a little longer due to real-life work deadlines (I might work in comics in some way...) but I'm doing it!  
Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl is just coming back up from the basement with his laundry when Jesus walks through the front door of the apartment building looking slightly pissed, returning from his therapy session.

"Hey," Daryl calls and Jesus looks up, brightening slightly.

"Hi," he says, then curses as he drops the small stack of papers he's been carrying, throwing his backpack on the floor and kneeling down to retrieve them. Daryl sets his laundry basket down and helps him.

"Bad one?" Daryl asks and Jesus sighs, shaking his head.

"No, it was good. Just...I'll tell you in a sec." He can't quite pick up a few sheets with his left hand, face scrunching up in concentration. Daryl stacks a few sheets together and slides them back into the cardboard folder they were in. He can't help but glance at a sheet of paper, some of Jesus's spidery handwriting visible. "...make positive chang..." "stop blamin..." "...owledge my feelings for..." He looks away quickly, feeling bad for looking at Jesus's private papers.

They stand back up and Daryl hoists up his laundry. "I made you a sandwich," he says.

Jesus smiles at him and it's the one Daryl likes best, the one that makes him feel like the most important person in the world.

They head up to Daryl's apartment and he sets the laundry down, Jesus tossing his backpack on the floor and shoving the folder of papers inside. Daryl hands him the sandwich and Jesus follows him back to his desk, leaning on it while he eats and Daryl draws.

They've settled into a strange little routine together: Jesus coming up to Daryl's after lunch or his therapy sessions, depending on the day, just hanging out while Daryl works and then they spend time together in the afternoon and evening, watching movies or playing video games, talking the whole time, usually. Their friendship has developed into a solid thing, something that feels like it's always been part of Daryl's life. Daryl is always hoping for more, but he's decided to step back, that anything more than friendship should come from Jesus. If Daryl does something that makes clear his feelings and it's all wrong, everything could be ruined. He's settled for going to bed every night heart aching, pining pitifully, but refusing to ruin what they have between them.

"So what's up?" he asks when Jesus finishes eating, measuring out a couple of panels.

Jesus lets out a tired sigh. "Carol says I need to start thinking about what I want to do with my life now, where I want it to go. Think about jobs and...stuff."

Daryl knows that Jesus hasn't worked since he was discharged; he doesn't know when that was but it's been a while at least, certainly before he moved to New York from Boston. He knows that Jesus is on disability and that he hates it, his face always settling into a sullen frown whenever the checks come. Jesus has mentioned that he has money put aside too, but Daryl doesn't know anything beyond that.

"Well, what do you think you might want to do?" Daryl puts down his set square and pencil, giving Jesus his full attention.

Jesus gives Daryl a helpless look. "I have no idea. I can't just keep reading comics and playing video games here all day, that's for sure."

Daryl grins. "Believe me, if I could afford to pay you to do that, I would."

Jesus forces a small smile and picks up Daryl's mechanical pencil and starts to click it. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"You don't want to follow up on your Political Sciences?"

Jesus shakes his head, watching the lead from the pencil get longer and longer as he clicks. "That part of my life is done."

"Well, what makes you happy?"

Jesus catches the thin lead as it finally pops out of the pencil and holds it delicately in his hand. He turns and looks at Daryl, brow furrowed, chewing his lip. Daryl almost (almost) thinks (hopes) that Jesus is going to say "you", but he just gives a helpless little shrug. "I have no idea anymore."

Daryl considers for a moment. "If there's no reason for you to rush into this, if you have the time to think, then just see what happens. Worrying about it isn't going to make it any easier. If you need me to help, I'll be here."

Jesus's smile is genuine this time and he carefully slides the lead back into the pencil and hands it back to Daryl. "I feel like..." he hesitates. "I'm glad I met you, Daryl," he says simply and heads over to the couch, not looking back around.

Daryl watches as he starts to play Assassin's Creed III, his latest gaming obsession, his shoulders tense, and Daryl knows that he's worrying anyway. He doesn't blame Jesus for feeling the way he does; he's being asked to start his life out all over again. Part of Daryl - the selfish part - wishes things could stay like this, wishes that Jesus could just come over every day and read comics while Daryl worked. Just having Jesus near him every day makes Daryl feel happier and the thought that that could change soon makes him feel miserable. He feels like a complete asshole for thinking this way and wants more than anything to help.

 

***

 

Daryl finishes working at about 5:20pm and sits on the couch next to Jesus. He takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes and groaning loudly.

"Hard day at the office?" Jesus asks with a grin.

"Page 4 and 5 was a nightmare. I had to draw a million Eugeneots. Literally a million."

"I can put something else on?" Jesus offers, indicating to the Wii U.

"No, it's okay - I like watching you play."

Daryl glances at Jesus as he continues the game for a few minutes. He looks...lost. Daryl reaches over to the controller, still in Jesus's hands and pauses the game, Jesus looking up at him in surprise.

"Look," Daryl says, "it's easy enough for someone else to say "Hey, time to get your life together" than it is to do. If you need the time to figure things out, just take it. Don't think that you have to suddenly know what your life should be this very second."

Jesus leans his head back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I know. But it's like..." he swallows and Daryl knows that he's going to talk about something difficult. "When I joined the army, I had it all figured out. I was going to do a couple of tours and me and...and Tim talked about doing something together when we got back and I knew where I wanted to live and then..." He holds up his left arm and then lets it drop heavily. He turns and looks at Daryl.

"You have your life together and you let me come here and just bum around..."

Daryl gives a small laugh. "Yeah, I'm doing a swell job of my life. I can barely talk to anyone without becoming a mess."

"You know what I mean," Jesus says quietly.

Daryl reaches across and gives Jesus's left arm a nudge. "We - you'll figure it out."

Jesus gives a tired sigh. "You want to go and see a movie? I don't feel like playing this anymore."

They head off to the movie theatre, stopping to grab a hotdog each on the way. They look at the movie choices in the lobby and Jesus suggests Edge Of Tomorrow. Daryl wants to see it but thinks about how violent it looked from the trailers and that it might not be a good idea.

Daryl hesitates before saying, "Are you sure? It looks kind of..." He isn't sure how to say what he wants to say. "It might...trigger..."

Jesus gives Daryl an appreciative smile. "I think I'll be okay. If not, you're here, right?"

"You will tell me? If anything - "

Jesus throws an arm across Daryl's shoulders. "Of course. Come on, I'm paying for this one." He drags Daryl over to the ticket booth.

There are only about six other people in the screen with them so they get a whole row to themselves; Jesus immediately puts his feet up on the back of the seat in front. For the first forty-five minutes of the movie, Daryl glances at Jesus to make sure he's okay. He seems alright, laughing in all the right places, making small sounds when something awesome happens on screen. Jesus eventually catches one of his looks and leans over, his mouth so close to Daryl's ear it makes him shiver. "I'm okay. Really," he whispers. He gives Daryl a reassuring smile and they continue to watch, Daryl relaxing. He can't stop thinking about Jesus's mouth so close to his face.

They both love the movie, talking about it non-stop on the way home. They argue about what they would have done if they could reset the day, each having a better plan than the other, evidently. Daryl mentions Groundhog Day and they begin a new argument about what they would do if they could relive one day over and over again.

"So if you could pick one day, out of your entire life to relive, which day would you chose?" Jesus asks, kicking a stone down the street in front of him.

Daryl considers for a moment. "The day we went to the Museum Of Michonneural History."

Jesus looks over at him, a strange expression on his face. "Out of your whole life? All the days you could pick and that would be the one?"

Daryl nods. "It was a really great day," he says softly to the ground in front of him.

Jesus says nothing and Daryl doesn't look up at him. After a moment, he asks which day Jesus would choose.

Jesus is quiet for a long time. "I don't know," he finally says and they walk home in silence.

 

***

 

Daryl wonders if that day was the cause of what would follow; the day Jesus started to worry about what to do with his life, when they saw Edge Of Tomorrow and Daryl chose a day that included Jesus in it to relive if he had the chance. For a few days after, Jesus seems distracted, still hanging out at Daryl's apartment but not really all there, slower to smile, quieter than he has been for a long time. Daryl worries for a while that there might be a panic attack coming, that something was triggered and might be building but then Jesus will laugh at something he says or nudge him when they play Injustice to put him off, but something seems to be lacking and Daryl can't quite put his finger on it. He pushes the thought aside and tries to think that it will pass and everything will be back to normal.

A couple of days later, they get the subway to Central Park. Jesus comes over earlier than usual, quiet and on the verge of saying something a few times and then just settling into a gloomy silence on the couch, not really reading the book he's holding. That knot of worry starts to tighten in Daryl's stomach again and he can't concentrate on his drawing. He suggests they go to Central Park, to get out of the apartment.

"What about your work?" Jesus asks, a small frown creasing his forehead.

Daryl shrugs. "It can wait."

Jesus nods and smiles but as he turns away, Daryl can see that small frown return.

He seems to perk up slightly when they arrive at the park, buying two donuts and handing one to Daryl and they eat as they walk. It's a gorgeous day by New York standards, warm but with a breeze and the park is buzzing with people. It's lunchtime on a Thursday and everyone seems to want to be outside. Daryl is doing most of the talking, mainly about the possibility that he might want to buy a PS3, when a grey squirrel scampers into the path in front of them. They both stop and watch as it flits about on the concrete, picking up a leaf and putting it down, checking out a gum wrapper.

Daryl breaks off a piece of his donut and throws it gently a few feet in front of the squirrel. It approaches the donut fragment cautiously, but then picks it up and eats it. Daryl smiles and Jesus gives a little laugh. Daryl crouches down on the path and breaks off another piece, throwing it down on the concrete, closer this time. Jesus watches, transfixed, as the squirrel bypasses the piece of donut altogether and makes a beeline straight for Daryl.

Daryl makes a small shocked noise as the squirrel leaps on his arm. Jesus gives a surprised laugh.

"What the hell?"

Daryl stays completely still and looks up at Jesus, eyes wide. "What do I do?"

Jesus slowly gets his phone out of his pocket. "I have no idea but I'm getting pictures of this."

The squirrel makes it's way down Daryl's arm and starts to eat the donut from Daryl's hand. He gives an elated little laugh as the squirrel just sits there, not a care in the world. Daryl's leg is going dead from his awkward crouch and he shifts his weight slightly, worried that the squirrel will run off, but it doesn't move, just continues to eat.

Daryl looks up at Jesus, an expression of pure delight on his face, just as Jesus takes a photo. Jesus looks at the picture and something in his face changes, Daryl can see it, just for a second. He's just about to ask Jesus if he's alright when the squirrel jumps down off of his arm and runs away, back into the trees.

"I can't believe that just happened," Daryl says, a goofy smile on his face.

"Yeah," Jesus says weakly. Something definitely isn't right.

Daryl's face clouds in concern and he steps towards Jesus. "Are you alright? Do you feel okay?"

Jesus doesn't meet Daryl's eyes but waves him off. "I'm fine. I maybe shouldn't have eaten that donut." He tucks his phone back in his pocket and starts to walk. "Can we head back now?"

Daryl watches him for a second then catches up. "Sure."

They walk for a few minutes and Daryl can see that Jesus looks tense.

"Jesus, if you feel - "

"Daryl, would you stop asking me if I'm okay? I'm fine. Just stop hounding me every two seconds," he snaps. Daryl falls silent, shocked and a little hurt; it's the first time that Jesus has ever been anything approaching angry at him. The knot in his stomach tightens.

Jesus lets out an exasperated breath. "I'm sorry. I just feel a bit off. It's not a panic attack or anything."

Daryl nods but doesn't say anything.

Jesus glances at him. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"It's fine," Daryl replies but he doesn't say much else on the train ride home. Jesus stands, leaning against the door, hair falling into his face. Daryl has no idea what he's thinking and doesn't dare ask him.

 

***

 

When they get back to their apartment building, Jesus stops on his floor, not following Daryl up to his place.

"I'm really tired. I might just call it a day." His face is neutral.

"Okay," Daryl says and he can feel a hard lump rising in his throat. Did he offend Jesus? His concern never seemed to be a pEugenelem before.

"I, uh, have an arm thing tomorrow so I might not be able to hang out. I'll see how I am." Jesus isn't looking at him and Daryl's heart sinks.

"Will you let me know how it goes?" Daryl asks, barely managing to keep his voice even.

Jesus finally looks at him and smiles, but there's something there that Daryl doesn't like, something sad and...he's not certain. "Sure."

Daryl forces a smile. "Okay. Maybe we can do something on Saturday?"

Jesus turns and unlocks his door. "Maybe," he replies and steps inside.

Daryl hurries up to his own apartment, stomach feeling like it's full of lead, his throat tight. He did something wrong and he has no idea what. His apartment feels strangely empty, the silence wrapping around him like a heavy blanket and he realises how long it's been since he was on his own, really on his own, since Jesus moved in downstairs. The familiar shroud of loneliness starts to descend again and Daryl shakes it off, heading back to his desk, convincing himself that he's overreacting, that Jesus is just having a bad week and that everything will be okay in a few days. But he doesn't feel very convinced. He goes to bed anxious and slightly afraid.

 

***

 

"Daryl? Daryl! You haven't been listening to a word I've said!"

Daryl snaps back to Michonne's voice. "Oh, sorry. I was just..."

"Are you okay? What's up?" she asks, that comforting mix of concern and demand in her voice.

Daryl looks out of the window. "Jesus's been acting a bit...I don't know. I think I did something to offend him but I don't know what."

Michonne snorts. "Daryl, you couldn't offend anyone if you tried. Have you asked him what's bothering him?"

"He won't talk about it."

Michonne must sense the anxiety in Daryl's voice that he's trying desperately to hide. "Look, he's been through a lot and there's no way to know how he really feels unless he tells you. Maybe he just needs to work some things out on his own. I'm sure everything's okay. It can't be fun all the time."

Daryl leans his head on his hand, spinning his pencil around and around on his desk. "I know, I just thought we were...that he could talk to me about those things. He was really opening up and now he seems to be, I don't know, shutting down."

"I'm sure it isn't as bad as you think it is. Maybe he just needs to step back for a little while. I mean, you can't say that it hasn't been a little intense for you both since you met him," Michonne says softly.

"Yeah, I guess. I think I've gotten so used to seeing him every day that it just feels a bit like it was before. And I don't want to be on my own anymore." His voice cracks slightly and he coughs to try and hide it.

"Oh Daryl, you're not on your own," Michonne says with a pang in her voice. "You'll never be alone with me and Rick around, you know that."

Daryl looks out of the window. "I know. It's not the Spencere as, well, you know. Being WITH someone." He gives a bitter laugh. "Not that I'm with him."

"Just give him his space. I know it's hard and I know you want to help him but he might feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. I don't think you've offended him or anything like that. I mean he'd tell you, right? He's always been upfront with you, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, he has. But that's what makes all of this so weird. He's been acting strange for about a week and yesterday at the park it just seemed to get..." he throws his glasses down and scrubs his face with his hands. "It doesn't feel right."

Michonne is quiet on the other end and Daryl can see the face she's making in his mind - the frowny-serious-face. "Just give him time, Daryl. I don't think you've done anything, but you being you, you're going to blame yourself for anything that goes wrong."

Daryl picks his pencil back up. "So what have you and Rick been up to?"

 

***

 

It's 8:45pm and Daryl still hasn't heard anything from Jesus. He agonises over whether to text him for about twenty minutes before sending one.

DARYL: Hey. Hope everything went okay today

He tries to get back into his saved game of Mass Effect 3, but it's been a while since he played and he can't quite remember what story he was following or going for. His eyes dart down to his phone every few minutes.

It's almost 11:20pm when Jesus texts him back. Daryl is sitting in bed with a book and his hands shake as he reads the message.

JESUS: It was fine

Daryl's face falls. He can't find any warmth or comfort in those three words and he puts his phone down on the bed beside him. The knot of hurt in his stomach flares into a hot ball and doesn't go away.

 

***

 

Daryl is up early on Saturday, giving his apartment a much needed clean, doing anything to take his mind off of things. He sorts through all of the random crap on his desk that seems to build up and spread like kipple: post-it notes with cryptic messages in his own handwriting that he can't remember writing, a few gum wrappers, a packet of High School Musical trading cards that Jesus bought him as a joke. He sets everything aside, paper, pencils, pens and cleans the eraser shavings off of the wood. He stacks everything back neatly, throwing away anything that doesn't need to be there. He looks at the trading cards for a moment and then puts them in a drawer.

He finishes cleaning the kitchen at around lunchtime and decides to get some groceries first before eating anything, his refrigerator holding nothing but three bottles of hot sauce (all open and half-used), a sad looking package of string beans, two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and a bar of Hershey's chocolate that must be Jesus's because Daryl maintains, and they'd argued about this, that Hershey's tastes like puke and he would never eat it.

He closes the refrigerator and heads back into the living room, putting on his sneakers and grabbing his wallet. Daryl almost doesn't knock on Jesus's door on his way downstairs, suddenly afraid, but forces himself to, the sound tentative in the empty hallway. He hears footsteps and Jesus answers, looking tired and stubbly. His mouth draws into a tight line for a second when he sees Daryl, but then he smiles. It looks forced.

"Hi," he says; his voice sounds unfamiliar and detached.

"I just wondered if you wanted anything from the grocery store," Daryl says softy, turning his wallet over and over in his hands.

Jesus shakes his head. "No, I'm okay."

He doesn't say anything more, just stares at the floor, his eyes hard. Daryl doesn't know what else to say. He WANTS to say a lot of things - what's wrong, did I do something, please talk to me - but he just stands in the hall, watching Jesus shift from one foot to another, the soft murmur of the TV coming from his living room and he can feel that things aren't right between them, which only makes his confusion grow.

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jesus says and steps back inside, closing the door.

"Jesus," Daryl blurts out, and Jesus stops, looking at Daryl.

"Did I - " Daryl hates how small his voice sounds. "You would tell me if I did something? To hurt you?"

He sees the briefest flash of shame in Jesus's eyes but it's gone as fast as Daryl thinks he saw it.

"You haven't done anything," Jesus says and closes the door, leaving Daryl standing in the hallway, alone and upset.

 

***

 

Daryl doesn't try to text Jesus for the rest of the weekend. He sends Michonne a half-hearted message on Sunday morning about not being able to talk because of a sudden project with a stupid deadline, feeling like a prick for lying, but he can't bring himself to try and explain what's going on. He carries on with his work, not really into it, but knowing that he has to do it. He redraws the Spencere first panel on page 7 about three times, unable to make it work before sitting back in frustration. He finally gives up trying to do anything productive and zones out in front of adult swim, watching episode after episode of American Dad. He falls asleep on the couch.

On Monday morning, he blows off Michonne again, and he can tell she's getting worried but she just goes with it, telling him that Rick misses him. His stomach is a nervous wreck, churning constantly and he can't focus on anything. The day drags on and Daryl's mood descends further. He finally sends Jesus a text at 7pm.

DARYL: Can we talk?

He doesn't get a response.

Tuesday is no better. Daryl works in a haze, his mind running a mile a minute, his eyes constantly feeling the prick of tears that he wont allow himself to cry. He knows that he should leave the apartment to get some fresh air but he can't muster the enthusiasm.

Michonne texts him at about 2:30pm.

MICHONNE: So when are you going to tell me what's really going on?

DARYL: I'm sorry. Jesus isn't talking to me. It's been nearly three days

MICHONNE: Really? Have you tried to see him?

DARYL: On Saturday. It was like I was talking to someone else. He wont text me back. I don't know what I've done

MICHONNE: I want to call you

DARYL: I still have this deadline - not a good time

MICHONNE: I don't know what to suggest :(

DARYL: Me neither

 

***

 

Wednesday morning, Daryl decides that if he still hasn't heard from Jesus by 3pm, he'll go down and try and talk to him. The decision is a ticking clock and he works on a page for Winter Soldier, determined to get something productive done today. He hopes that Jesus really just needed a breather, that maybe things had been getting a bit too intense. If that is the case, Daryl wishes that Jesus could have told him. Maybe he was so wrapped up in the good time that he was having, he didn't think that Jesus wasn't. Was he too clingy? Too needy? He racks his brain, trying to think of every instance in which he could have been too overbearing.

He makes himself a sandwich that tastes like cardboard and pulls the garbage bag out of his kitchen trashcan. He throws his sneakers on to take it downstairs and stops dead when he opens the front door. Everything he's ever lent or given to Jesus is stacked neatly just to the side of his door, presumably so he doesn't trip over it all on his way out. Every book, every DVD is there in that smart little pile. He suddenly panics; if Jesus couldn't have been any clearer to him before, he's being clear about everything now and the statement couldn't hurt any worse than if he'd just punched Daryl in the face.

Daryl can feel the anguish rising in his throat, as well as his lunch, and drops his trash bag in the hall, leaving his front door wide open and races down the stairs. He hammers on Jesus's front door.

"Jesus? Jesus, please talk to me!" he shouts into the cold wood, knocking as loud as he can. "Please, just tell me what I've done!" He can't hear anything on the other side of the door.

His frustration grows and he hammers on the door until the side of his hand thEugenes. "Jesus, please just answer the fucking door!"

The door of 2C suddenly opens and Mr Hargensen, a sallow man in his late 40s, and also an asshole, steps out into the hall.

"For Christ's sake, will you keep that racket down? He's either not in or not coming to the door so give it a rest! It isn't bad enough that the two of you run around like kids all the time that you have make all this noise?"

Daryl steps back. "I'm sorry," he says.

Mr Hargensen gives him a dirty look and slams his front door. Daryl stands in the hallway for a few more minutes, staring at Jesus's front door, feeling more lost than he ever has in his life. He goes back up to his apartment, kicking the garbage bag back in through the doorway, leaving the pile of books and stuff in the hallway and closes his front door. He picks up his phone and calls Jesus. It goes straight through to voicemail.

Daryl talks rapidly, not caring how desperate he sounds. "Jesus, please - whatever I've done, I'm sorry. If I was too annoying or...or...if you just need some space, I'll understand. Please just talk to me. If I could just know what's wrong, I could help or back off, or whatever you wanted me to - " he gets cut off by the beep. He throws his phone down on the couch, takes his glasses off and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He tries calling again but each time just goes straight through to voicemail.

He had steeled himself for rejection from the first day he met Jesus, but now that it's here, now that it's actually happening, he can't handle it. Is he that bad of a person? That much of a loser? A strangled sob makes it's way out of his mouth and he tries to swallow it down. He should be used to this - it's happened his whole life and it looks like a repeating pattern. He slumps on the couch and takes a few deep breaths, trying to hold back the tears that may not stop if he lets them start. Why is this happening? How does he manage to repel people so easily? If Michonne, Rick and Glenn saw him more than four times a year, would they eventually see what it is that everyone else sees in him that makes them run and never look back?

Daryl can't let the hurt and pity take him over, he can't. It would be too hard to come back from. He lies on his side and curls up, listening to the silence around him. The silence that he has to get used to all over again.

 

***

 

He wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing. He sits up - it's dark out. He doesn't know how long he's been asleep. He grabs his phone, hoping more than anything that it's Jesus, but it's Michonne. There are a few missed calls from her. He doesn't answer, not in the mood to try and talk, feeling like the worse friend ever. It's 8:30pm. A major headache is threatening to erupt any minute now and he shuffles over to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some Advil, leaning against the fridge in the dark. His phone rings twice more from the living room and he lets it. A heavy numbness has settled over him which he knows will break soon if he allows himself to wake up fully.

He doesn't bother turning on any lights on his way back to the couch, intending to go straight back to sleep. A text comes through from Michonne.

MICHONNE: Rick's in the hospital - please call me

Daryl freezes as he reads the message, any numbness he was feeling replaced by cold terror. Hospital? The thought of anything happening to Michonne or Rick...he doesn't want to think about it. He fumbles with his phone, calling Michonne as fast as he can.

"Daryl?" She sounds tired.

"Michonne, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't answer. What is it? Is he okay?"

Michonne let's out a sigh. "Yeah, he's fine. He got shot in the thigh with an arrow by one of his stupid archery club buddies. He's high as a kite on morphine and babbling about driving boats and dogs eating pizza, I don't know."

Daryl sinks back on the couch, feeling more relieved than he's ever felt about anything in his life. "Thank fuck. I was...shit, I thought something else...I'm so sorry I didn't answer when you called."

"It's okay. I just needed to talk..." Michonne's voice breaks and Daryl is officially the World's Biggest Asshole, "...and I didn't have anyone else...there wasn't anyone else I wanted to speak to..." She takes a deep breath and her voice is steadier when she continues. "When they called and told me he was being taken to the emergency room, I just thought that..."

"Hey, it's okay. He's okay, right?"

"Yeah, nothing major was hit, no arteries or anything. I almost punched the guy who did it in the throat when I saw him but he's pretty torn up about it. It was just a stupid accident." She blows her nose.

Daryl lets out a breath. "I could catch a flight to Milwaukee tonight - "

"No, don't be stupid. I mean, I appreciate it but there's no need."

"Michonne, just say the word and I'm there," Daryl says earnestly.

"I love you, Dork. It's fine, honestly. I just wanted to hear your voice." She sounds grateful nonetheless.

Daryl lies back down on the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. "I'll stay on the phone as long as you want me to."

Michonne gives a tired little laugh. "Thanks, Daryl. They're letting me stay here with Rick tonight. God, I'm a mess."

Daryl smiles, the first real smile he's managed for a couple of days. "Yeah, I bet. With your hair all looking good and wearing those boots that make your ass look great."

Michonne let's out a bark of surprised laughter. "Okay, one: How did you know that I'm wearing those boots, and Two: Why the fuck are you looking at my ass?"

Daryl sniggers. "You love those boots. And Rick was the one who pointed out your ass and I had to agree. I might be into guys but I can still appreciate a great ass."

Michonne laughs harder this time. "Oh my god, that is the creepiest thing you've ever said to me. Please don't talk about my ass ever again. Don't even think about my ass."

Daryl laughs with her. "I'm sorry I've been a shitty friend the last couple of days."

"What are you talking about? You haven't."

"Yes, I have. I didn't have any deadline. I just...I didn't feel like talking to you. I'm sorry."

Michonne gasps. "Holy shit, Daryl Dixon told a lie! Call the police! The world is ending! Cthulhu has finally come to claim us all!"

Daryl giggles. "You're such a dick."

"If you didn't want to talk, you just had to say. I'm not going to throw a hissy fit. How are things with Jesus?" she asks softly.

"That doesn't matter right now. Not with Rick being in the hospital."

"Daryl..." Michonne coaxes.

He's silent for a moment. "Not good," he says quietly.

Michonne sighs, "Oh Daryl, I'm so - sorry, wait a sec..." There's a muffled conversation on the other end. "Daryl, I have to go, they want me in with Rick to talk about medication and stuff. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about it. At the moment, I care more...more about Rick. Just text me to let me know that everything's okay."

"I will. I'll speak to you soon." She hangs up.

Daryl pulls the blanket up to his chin. After a few minutes, he flips through the photo gallery on his phone and finds the picture of him and Jesus with the squid and the whale. Jesus looks happy in the picture; what changed between then and now? He studies Jesus's smile, the way he's leaning towards Daryl, a mischievous look in his gorgeous eyes. It hurts more than anything.

 

***

He wakes up on Thursday morning, cold and feeling like he hasn't slept at all. He doesn't move from his foetal position on the couch, just stares ahead at the blank screen of the TV.

His phone goes off and he rolls to the side - he's been sleeping on it all night.

"Hi Michonne. Is everything okay? Is Rick alright?" His throat feels like he's been eating rusty nails.

Michonne's voice is hushed and she sounds like she's trying not to laugh. "He's fine. I'm slightly hysterical from tiredness though. You have to speak to him; he's still on the morphine and it's hilarious. I'm technically not supposed to be on the phone."

Daryl can't help but laugh, as shit as he feels. "Okay, put him on."

There's some shuffling and then Daryl hears Michonne say, "Daryl's on the phone for you."

"Hey buddy!" Rick's voice is slightly higher pitched than usual, slurry around the edges.

"Hi Rick, how are you feeling?"

"I'm...doing...great. I had an arrow in me and now I don't." He sounds surprised.

Daryl holds back a laugh. "I heard. That must have sucked."

"Oh, it did. But now things are really looking glup."

Daryl hears Michonne crack up into a hoarse breathy laugh and he chokes back a giggle. "That's good, Rick."

"Hey Daryl, I gotta tell you..." He pauses.

Daryl waits for a moment. "Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanted to tell me..."

"Oh yeah!" Rick sounds pleased. "I had to tell you...you're the only man I've ever kissed that I would kiss again...and I usually only kiss men once...but you, I would kiss again in a second..." He hears Michonne make a noise of protest.

Daryl rubs his eyes. "Wow, that's very flattering."

"And you can totally come on my boat." Daryl hears Michonne in the background say, "Honey, you don't have a boat."

Rick makes a disgusted noise. "Did they take it away when they took the arrow out?" There's more shuffling and Michonne comes back on.

"And that's Rick on morphine. As horrible as this whole situation has been, I think this has been the best bit."

Daryl sits up. "Poor guy. Tell him I'm thinking about him when he starts to come down."

"I will. Thank fuck Rick has medical insurance because this is going to cost a fortune." She yawns. "Are you okay?"

Daryl let's out a shuddery breath. "No. But there we go."

"I wish I knew what to tell you to make things better."

"I know. Will you keep me updated?" Daryl says.

"Of course. You too?"

"I will," he says sadly.

 

***

 

11:20

DARYL: Will you please talk to me?

13:42

DARYL: I just want to know what's going on

15:23

DARYL: Just tell me what I did wrong. I never meant to hurt you and if you could just tell me

18:32

DARYL: Jesus please

21:57

DARYL: I don't know what to do

 

***

 

Daryl starts to get angry on Friday afternoon. He's been working all morning and the rage has been building steadily hour after hour. He's not a bad person. He's always tried to do the right thing and that only ever got him beaten up or called a brown-noser in high school. He's always tried to be a decent person and he always ends up alone, ignored and made to feel like he doesn't exist. Daryl doesn't usually let himself wallow - he's always just tried to move on and do the best he can but there's only so much he can take before it just starts to feel...unfair. He throws down his pencil and stands up, hands threaded together behind his head. He paces the living room, considers smashing something, but then laughs bitterly at himself when he doesn't want to make a mess.

He thought Jesus was different but Jesus is an asshole just like everybody else. His shoulder's slump and he immediately regrets thinking that. Jesus's not an asshole, no matter what's going on at the moment and so...it must be him. Daryl makes a desperate noise, suddenly deathly afraid that he's going to die alone, that his life is a zero-sum that doesn't mean anything, that someone else always gets something and he gets nothing. He's going to die alone, never having been with anyone and the world will go on without him and Daryl Dixon will be a loser that no-one even remembers. He knows that isn't true, not really, that Michonne and Rick care, but at the moment, that's not enough. He feels a lump of panic rise in his throat and forces himself to calm down, taking off his glasses and covering his face with his hands, breathing hard.

He stands in the middle of the living room, the afternoon light streaming through the window. He considers something for a long time.

Thirty minutes later, fully resolved, he picks up his phone, hesitating slightly before he dials.

"H-hi... It's Daryl...yeah, I know, I'm kind of surprised that I called too."

 

Daryl stands outside of the bar later that evening, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, pulling at his sweater. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But before he can even consider running back to his apartment, it's too late.

"Daryl, hey!" He turns and Dwight is there, looking great in a shirt and tie, his jacket over his arm, smiling brightly.

Daryl smiles nervously. "Hi. I'm glad you could meet up. I, uh, I feel like an idiot for calling."

"I was happy when you did. I came straight from work so I'm a bit of a mess."

"Yeah, you look terrible."

Dwight laughs and gives Daryl a look. "Yeah, you too. That haircut is pretty awful. I mean, what were you thinking." Daryl recognises the flirty look in Dwight's eyes.

Daryl blushes and looks away. "Uh, shall we go..."

Dwight opens the door and they head into the bar, Daryl too nervous about being here in the first place to worry about how busy it is. They find a table near the back and Daryl gets his wallet out. Dwight holds up a hand.

"I'll get these. What do you want?"

Daryl stands awkwardly. "Um, rum and coke? Thanks."

"You still like that crap, huh?" Dwight says with a smile. "Single or double?"

"Double," Daryl says without hesitation.

Dwight grins at him. "Well, alright then." He heads to the bar.

Daryl sits down, suddenly feeling more miserable than he ever has in his life. What the fuck is he doing? This isn't him; he doesn't do this. He sits back and takes a few deep breaths. Dwight comes back with his drink and a beer for himself, sitting next to Daryl. He mumbles a thanks.

"So how are you?" Dwight asks.

Daryl nods. "I'm okay. I, uh, yeah, I'm okay. How are you?"

Dwight takes a swig of beer. "Yeah, pretty good. I'm working at a law firm now. Hoping I can make my way up. Your drawing's going pretty well, right?"

"Yeah, it's...it's great. I'm working on an awesome book. It's getting pretty popular." He downs his drink, Dwight giving him an amused look.

Daryl plays with his empty glass for a moment. "I...I think I'm going to get another one. Do you want another beer?" He looks at Dwight's drink, which is still pretty full.

"Uh, sure," Dwight says.

Daryl heads to the bar, not feeling a hundred percent certain that he should be doing this, but doing it anyway. He orders a beer and two double rum and cokes, one of which he drinks at the bar before he heads back to the table. He can already feel the alcohol buzzing through his system. Dwight is watching him as he comes back.

"So, I was glad I ran into you that day at the bookstore," Dwight says. "Although I was a little disappointed that you were with someone."

Daryl swallows. "I'm not with anyone."

"I thought that guy you were with - "

"No," Daryl cuts him off and takes a big mouthful of his drink, "we're not anything." He's starting to feel a little bit bolder and looks Dwight in the eyes. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Dwight blinks and looks down at his beer. "Uh, no. I haven't been involved with anyone since I went out with you, actually."

Daryl starts slightly at that. "Really?"

Dwight gives a little nod. "Yep. Just didn't really...mesh well with anyone else."

"Oh." It's all Daryl can think to say. He swallows down the rest of his drink and Dwight gives a little frown.

Daryl is clenching and unclenching his hands under the table, feeling a little bit muzzy from the drinks - he really should have eaten something before he came out - and he lets out a shaky breath.

Dwight leans towards him slightly. "Look, Daryl..."

Before he can say anything else, Daryl surges forward and kisses him hard, one hand going to the back of Dwight's neck, pulling him in. Dwight makes a surprised noise and for a second starts to kiss Daryl back before pulling away and pushing Daryl gently with one hand. Daryl looks confused and flushed.

"I, uh, look Daryl, I'm really flattered that you chose me for this one night stand or whatever this was going to be, but this isn't you. And as much as I really do want to sleep with you, I don't think this is good idea." His eyes are soft.

Daryl makes a choked sound, finally breaking down, and slumps against the seat, covering his face with his hands. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I don't...I wasn't thinking...I just wanted..."

Dwight slides next to Daryl and puts an arm around him. "I don't know what's going on, but you could have just talked to me. You didn't need to try and get me into bed."

"I'm such a fucking loser..."

"No, you're not. You're an idiot, but you're not a loser."

"Then why did you dump me?" Daryl looks at him, drunk and upset and, Dwight can't help but think, utterly adorable.

Dwight gives a sigh and picks up his beer. "Finally, we're having this talk?"

Daryl looks down at his lap. "I really liked you."

Dwight lets out a breath. "I really liked you too. And, um, to be honest? Breaking up with you was one of the worst mistakes of my life."

Daryl looks at him, still hazy, not sure what to say. Dwight gives a sad little smile. "You're my one-that-got-away."

"Then, why..." Daryl asks quietly.

Dwight looks down at his beer. "I wanted more from you than you were ready to give and me, being an asshole, I wasn't prepared to wait and give you time. I, uh, I fell pretty hard for you and I knew it was all a bit new for you and you wanted to take things slow, but I didn't. I was...I should have given you time. That sounds so dumb." He rubs his head.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Dwights holds up a hand. "I don't know, because I'm a selfish prick? I can't even give you a good reason." He looks at Daryl, his brown eyes full of warmth. "It was never because of you as a person. You're like the sweetest, funniest guy I've ever met."

Daryl gives a cheerless smile and shakes his head. "People keep saying that and yet I still seem to get crapped on."

"So this other guy that you're obviously crazy about and trying to get back at for some reason..."

Daryl shakes his head. "There's nothing there. It was always a one-sided thing."

"Right. So this isn't about making him jealous?"

"I wouldn't have told anyone about this. It would have been...my first time." He stares steadily at the table.

Dwight sighs and pulls Daryl in closer. "You know this was a terrible way to go about that, right?"

"Yes," Daryl says miserably. "I'm sorry, Dwight."

Dwight shakes his head. "If it were anyone else, I'd be pretty pissed off. And if I couldn't see that you were already a total mess when we got here, I'd maybe have considered it. But I'm not that much of a selfish prick." He takes a swallow of beer. "I'd also be considering asking you out again on a proper date, but I can see that you're hung up on this guy who doesn't like you back."

Daryl picks up the remains of his drink and swirls the liquid about. "I thought there was something between us but I was wrong. He won't even speak to me."

"This is the guy from the bookstore?"

Daryl nods.

"His loss, I guess."

Daryl finishes his drink. "I think I should go."

Dwight puts his beer down. "Come on, let's get you a cab."

 

***

 

They pull up to Daryl's building, Daryl still fuzzy from the rum. "You didn't have to come with me."

Dwight gives him a smile. "I wasn't going to let you try and get home by yourself. I like to think that I'm kind of a gentleman."

Daryl gives him a grateful look. "You are."

Dwight looks at Daryl for a moment, then slides across the back seat and kisses him softly on the cheek, his lips grazing the corner of Daryl's mouth. Daryl meets his eyes.

"If this other guy doesn't wise up, give me a call?"

Daryl nods and gives a little smile. "Bye, Dwight."

He climbs out of the cab and watches it pull away. After a moment, he goes into his apartment building. He stops in the lobby and, after glancing around, opens Hobo Guy's mailbox and pulls out the couple of letters that are in there, looking at the name on the envelopes. One is addressed to Abraham Ford, the other to Paul Ford. They're both handwritten and Daryl holds them up to the light to try and see inside. He suddenly feels bad and stuffs them back into the mailbox.

Daryl walks heavily up the stairs, his mind buzzing, and stops on the second floor landing, looking at Jesus's apartment. The hurt and anger from earlier starts to rise again and he stalks towards Jesus's door, knowing this is a terrible idea but doing it anyway. He knocks loudly on the door.

"Jesus? It's Daryl. I'm not leaving until you answer the door and talk to me." He keeps up a steady rhythm of knocks. "I can do this all day," he calls loudly and leans against the door, continuing to knock, getting louder, his hand starting to hurt. "I'm going to keep knocking until you open the door." There's no answer and no indication that Jesus has heard him so his starts to pummel on the door with both fists.

"Jesus, open the fucking door!" he shouts.

Mr Hargensen's door flies open and he steps into the hall wearing a ratty old bath Eugenee.

"It's eleven-twenty at night! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Daryl suddenly sees red; years worth of never losing his temper bursting like a full dam. "Fuck off! Go back inside and finish jerking off, you asshole!" Even he's surprised at the anger in his voice.

Mr Hargensen's face goes bright red and he steps forward, pointing a shaky finger at Daryl. "You can be sure that I'll report this disturbance to - "

Daryl takes a step towards him, looking him dead in the eyes. "Go ahead, make a fucking complaint - I'll make a complaint against YOU for claiming unemployment when you obviously have a job. You think we don't all know about that? Now, fuck off and leave me alone! FUCK! OFF!" He screams the last two words and Mr Hargensen backs off to his apartment, face white, and closes the door without another word.

Daryl is breathing heavily and turns back to Jesus's front door. He bangs on it again. "Jesus, open the goddamn door and talk to me. I'm not leaving until you do." He thinks he hears a slight shuffle on the other side. He bangs again and winces as his hand flares with pain.

"I'll stay out here all night if I have to. I'll start singing. You know I can't sing. Just please - Jesus, please..." Desperation has started to creep into his voice.

There's nothing. Daryl leans against the door.

"Well, East Coast girl are hip, I really dig those styles they wear... and the Southern girls with the way they talk, they knock me out when I'm down there..." He sings in his high shaky voice, face turned to the door. He sings for twenty minutes, the Spencere stupid song over and over, his voice getting louder then starting to break, his mouth drying out horribly, his head starting to pound. He leans his head against the door and starts to knock on it again as he sings. He can feel tears crawling into his eyes and is about to give up when the door suddenly opens and he almost stumbles forwards, straight into Jesus. The relief that overwhelms Daryl is cut short when he sees him. He looks terrible.

Jesus's hair is lank and greasy, his eyes red and sunken, framed by dark circles. He hasn't shaved for a few days and he looks...wild, Daryl thinks. He also looks furious.

"What?" he says in a low voice, almost guttural.

Daryl puts one hand on the door frame to steady himself, suddenly feeling dizzy. "Jesus, why...why won't you talk to me?" It's all he can manage as Jesus stares at him with hard, cold eyes.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Daryl shakes his head. "You can't just...you can't just cut me off. If I did something, you have to tell me."

Jesus shakes his head and looks away, a reproachful look on his face then stalks back into his apartment but he leaves the door open. Daryl hesitates and then follows him in. There's just the one lamp on in the living room but as Daryl passes the kitchen, he can see shattered glass on the floor, a couple of broken plates too. He stops in the living room and watches as Jesus sinks onto the couch, hair falling into his face, shoulders hunched and turned away from Daryl. Something is very wrong and fear rises in Daryl, cold and alarming.

"Jesus, you have to tell me what's wrong," he says, walking a few steps towards the couch.

"No, I don't," Jesus answers in a slow, deliberate voice.

Daryl is getting desperate, not knowing what to do now that he's finally here. "How the hell am I supposed to help if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

Jesus leaps up and charges at Daryl but stops a few feet from him. "Who even said that I ever wanted your help?" He's shouting, his face twisted into something ugly that Daryl barely recognises. "I'm not your fucking charity project."

Daryl recoils. "I never...you're not a charity project. I've never thought of you as a charity project. How could you even think that?"

Jesus gives a short, harsh laugh. "Yeah, right. You just want to be the one to fix me, just like everybody else."

"I want to be your friend. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Why, so you can tell your comic book buddies that you're so good to the guy with one arm and a dead friend?"

Daryl frowns, getting angry himself. "What the fuck? No, I don't...where the hell is all of this coming from? When did I ever do anything that made you think that?"

Jesus sneers. "Yeah right, like you don't want something from me just like everybody else? Like you're not just trying to get into my - "

Daryl cuts him off before he can go any further. "Why are you doing this? I thought we were...what changed? I don't...." He's getting more frantic.

Jesus grabs at his own hair, making an enraged sound and takes a step towards Daryl. "You know what? I don't need anyone trying to help me, I don't need anyone trying to fix me, especially some fag with no fucking life."

He lunges forward and shoves Daryl hard with both hands, the force sending Daryl stumbling backwards and he almost falls over. He stands shocked and crushed; the push he could deal with, he'd even have preferred it if Jesus had just beaten the crap out of him, but the venom behind that one word wounds him more than anything physical that Jesus could ever do to him.

Daryl swipes a sleeve at his eyes and steps back, unable to say anything else, the hurt washing over him like a wave of broken glass. For a split-second, Jesus looks dismayed and makes a small movement forwards, but then his face hardens again and he looks away.

"Just get the fuck out of here," he says, his voice barely audible. He staggers back over to the couch and sits down heavily, his back to Daryl, drawing his legs up to his chest.

Daryl walks to the front door, feeling sick and hopeless. Before he leaves, he says, "If you need me, you know where I am," his voice finally breaking and he has no idea if Jesus has heard him or not. He closes the door behind him and goes up to his apartment. He curls up on the couch and finally lets the tears come.

 

***

 

He calls Michonne at 5:15am the next morning, far earlier than he ever would usually. She answers after a couple of rings sounding groggy.

"Daryl?"

"Hey Michonne," he says and his voices sounds strained and too high. "How's Rick doing?"

"Rick's okay; he's coming home this afternoon. You sound weird, what's wrong?" He can hear her sitting up.

He tries his best to speak but just starts to cry instead, huge desperate sobs that he can't control. He can just about hear Michonne trying to console him over his own hitching breaths and weeping.

"Oh god, Daryl...come on, take a breath, you have to breathe, okay? What happened?"

Daryl calms down enough to tell her; of his ill-thought out plan of trying to sleep with Dwight, of finally seeing Jesus and how angry and malicious he was. He cries into the phone until he's exhausted and his eyes are sore.

"I'm sorry," he finally snorts, wiping his nose on the couch blanket.

"Don't be sorry," Michonne says and she sounds desperately sad. "You don't deserve this, Daryl. You're such a good person."

"Am I though? I don't think I am..." He buries his face in the couch cushion, trying to stifle a fresh round of tears.

"You are. God, I wish I was there with you." She's sounds unhappy.

Daryl wipes his eyes, vision even blurrier without his glasses and through seemingly endless tears. "I'm sorry, Michonne. I know you have enough to worry about, with Rick and everything..."

"Rick's fine," she answers with a little sigh. "I think he's actually enjoyed this whole thing. At least it gives him a cool story to tell people."

Daryl lets out a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do," he says, sounding wrecked. "I don't know anybody that I could call; I don't think he has any other friends, not in New York anyway, and the only family he has is a sister in Denmark, he mentioned a while back. I have no idea about any of his doctors..."

"Maybe just give him some time?" She hesitates. "He wouldn't...he wouldn't try to hurt himself, would he?"

Daryl goes cold. "I...I don't think so. He's never seemed...I...no." He puts a hand across his eyes.

Michonne is quiet for a moment. "He might come to you for help..."

Daryl shakes his head. "I don't know, Michonne. He was...he hated me..."

"You can't know that."

"You didn't see him," Daryl's voice catches. "He looked so..."

Michonne Sighs. "I wish had the answers, Daryl. I don't know what to do. I wouldn't know what to do if I was there with you."

"I know, Michonne. I just...I have nobody else."

"Maybe you should get out of the apartment today. Just blow the whole day off, wander around. Go to an art gallery. Clear your head. There's nothing much else you can do."

Daryl puts his glasses back on. "Maybe I will. Look, thanks Michonne. For everything. Can you let me know when Rick's back home? I'd like to talk to him, just see how he is."

"I'll get him to give you a call. Let me know if anything happens, okay?"

"I will. Bye, Michonne."

Daryl sits for moment, completely cried out and exhausted. He curls up and goes back to sleep.

 

***

He wakes up at 9:45am, feeling strangely calm. At least now he knows where he stands with Jesus. There's nothing more he can do. If he tries to speak to him again, Jesus either wont speak to him, or will get even more angry and Daryl doesn't want to antagonise him. The thought of leaving Jesus alone as he was makes Daryl sick to his stomach but Jesus made it more than clear how he felt. For a minute, the hurt flares up, fresh and stinging and Daryl tries to push it down. He heads to the bathroom and has a long shower, not moving under the spray for at least twenty minutes.

He gets dressed and attempts to eat something, not bothering to turn on his laptop or even think about working. Michonne was right. He should get out of here for a while, even if he has no destiMichonneion or plan in mind. He downs a quick cup of coffee and puts on his sneakers, suddenly wanting to cry again but stubbornly not giving in. He grabs his sketchbook, hesitating before flipping to the pages where he sketched Jesus, his chest feeling tight as he looks at the drawings. He looked so different last night, nothing like the Jesus on these pages. Daryl swallows hard and closes the sketchbook, jamming it into his bag. He picks up his keys and heads out of the door.

He descends the stairs quietly and hesitates on the second floor landing. He's still worried about Jesus, no matter what's happened between them and he steps as quietly over to the door as he can, pressing his ear close. He can just about hear the TV and what sounds like pans being shuffled about in the kitchen, the muffled clanging almost a comfort. He steps away softly and heads downstairs.

 

***

MICHONNE: Hey Daryl, hope you're okay. Rick's home but fell asleep as soon as he got here. I'll get him to call you later

DARYL: Hey Michonne, glad to hear that he's back. Give him a big kiss from me

MICHONNE: Are you okay?

DARYL: Not really. I might have bought a PS3

MICHONNE: Well, we all make impulse buys when we're upset

DARYL: And 8 games

MICHONNE: Ah, shit

DARYL: I've never felt this bad

MICHONNE: :(

 

***

 

Daryl gets home and sets up his PS3, spending the rest of the day playing Heavy Rain, anything to stop him thinking beyond what's in front of him, drained and exhausted and spent, already intending to fill the weekend doing nothing more than playing video games. He doesn't want to think about Monday, having to slip back into his old life of work and loneliness. At 7:25pm, Rick calls.

"Rick, hey! How are you?"

Rick sounds tired but okay. "Hey Daryl. I'm good. A bit sore. Can't walk all that well at the minute but it could've been worse. That's the last time they let us use the crossbows."

"I'm so glad you're okay. Do you remember talking to me when you were high on morphine?"

"No, I don't and I can't believe you both took advantage of my delicate state by making fun of me when I was off my gourd on drugs. My WIFE especially." Daryl hears Michonne telling Rick to fuck off in the background.

"It was pretty funny. You sounded so cute." Daryl already feels happier talking to him. "It was kind of scary for a minute, when Michonne called me. I didn't realise how much I actually gave a shit about you."

Rick laughs. "Wow, I feel so loved."

"But seriously, I'm glad you're okay. I love you as much as I love Michonne, you asshole."

"I love you too, dude. Michonne told me what happened with...everything. I'm sorry, Daryl. I wish we could help."

Daryl sighs. "I know you do. Just...don't worry about me. You've got enough to think about. I bought a PS3 and a ton of games and that's all I'm going to do all weekend."

"PS3? Why didn't you buy a PS4?"

"It was cheaper and it had all the games I wanted. I don't care about the new stuff."

Rick snorts. "You're an idiot. You should have gone for the newer one. What's the point of buying an older console?"

"I don't have to take this from someone who got shot by a fucking crossbow."

Rick gives a chuckle. "Hey, I was doing great with the crossbow, it was Will who couldn't shoot straight. Oh, I gotta go - our take-out just arrived. Look, I'll call you Tuesday or something?"

"Yeah, no pEugenelem. Take care, Rick. I miss you guys."

"We miss you too. Try not to get too down, huh?"

Daryl smiles sadly. "I can't make any promises on that one."

 

***

Daryl ends up staying awake most of the night playing on the PS3, eventually falling asleep around 4am on Sunday morning, wrapped up the Spencere blanket he wiped his nose all over yesterday. He wakes up at 10am, goes to the bathroom, grabs some coffee and toast and carries on playing, not bothering to shower. He feels strangely removed, not like himself. It's not a nice sensation and Daryl wonders if he'll ever not feel like this again. He considers sending Dwight a text, just to apologise but puts it off. It was unfair to do what he did, especially since finding out that Dwight still had feelings for him and the embarrassment is still a bit too fresh.

At 5pm, he orders a pizza for dinner, too tired to try and cook anything himself. It arrives half an hour later, covered in anchovies and pepperoni and he eats all but two of the slices. He starts to play The Last Of Us, knowing full well that it will freak him out, but determined to play anyway. He turns off the lamp, intending to go all out if he's doing survival horror.

He's a couple of hours into the game, sat tensed on the couch, when he thinks he hears a knock at the front door. He pauses the game and listens, heart starting to hammer slightly. He waits for around two minutes but there's nothing. He slumps back on the couch about to un-pause the game when it comes again: Three short taps, almost barely there. He stands up, his breathing suddenly heavy and walks to the door. He opens it and Jesus is in the hallway. He looks as terrible as he did the other night, still wearing the Spencere clothes, hair still limp. But he doesn't look angry anymore. He just looks scared. Daryl swallows hard.

"Jesus?" he says softly.

Jesus's eyes flit up to his but he looks away quickly. "I..." his voice is thick and Daryl notices that's he's shaking slightly.

He reaches out carefully and pulls Jesus gently through the door. "It's okay," he says as Jesus stumbles into the apartment. Daryl closes the door behind him and turns to Jesus. He's standing with his back to Daryl, shoulders hunched, just about lit by the glare of the TV. Daryl doesn't think to turn a light on.

"Jesus, are you alright? Can I do anything? Just tell me what I can do."

Jesus's head sinks deeper and Daryl hears a choked sob. "Why are you doing that?"

Daryl steps towards him but then stops, not wanting to crowd him. He's just so relieved that he's here. "Doing what?"

"Being so fucking...nice to me."

"Jesus, it's okay - "

"No, it's not! You're not supposed to be nice to me, you were supposed to stay away from me, just like I made everyone else stay away, not tell me that I could come here if I needed...why are you still..." He starts to cry.

Daryl lets out a breath and gently puts a hand on Jesus's shoulder. Jesus flinches, and for a moment Daryl thinks that he's going to lash out at him, but he just turns around and he looks so utterly broken.

"You're supposed to tell me that I'm an asshole and that I didn't deserve to come back and...and..."

Daryl shakes his head. "No, Jesus - "

"You were supposed to tell me that I'm a fucking asshole who should have...should have died...with Tim..."

"No! Don't say that - "

Jesus covers his face, his sobs full of misery and hopelessness. "I should have died...I should have died with Tim...it was my fault..."

Daryl puts his arms around Jesus, pulling him close, Jesus's head against his shoulder. "Don't say that, please don't say that..."

Jesus's sobs grow louder. "I saw it. I saw the landmine. I saw that the ground looked strange and I didn't say anything and we just kept walking..."

Daryl holds him tighter. "It's okay..."

Jesus wraps his arms around Daryl's waist and cries into Daryl's shoulder, his body shuddering, overtaken in his grief. Daryl backs them up slowly until he feels the front door behind him and then eases them both down onto the floor. Jesus sags into him, his cries loud and wet. Daryl holds him close. He's so warm and he smells terrible but he just holds Jesus and lets him cry. Daryl glances over at the wall by his desk and swears that if Hobo Guy bangs on it, just once, he'll go next door and punch him in the face.

"Why don't you hate me? You need to hate me," Jesus says in a small choked voice.

"I can't hate you," Daryl says quietly.

"But I was so...god, I was so...I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm so fucking sorry," he puts a hand on Daryl's face and Daryl rests his head against Jesus's.

"It's okay, Jesus."

They sit like that, against the front door, the only light coming from the TV, for a long time. Jesus cries and Daryl holds him, stroking his hair, whispering to him. Jesus's sobs eventually ease and he just holds Daryl back, letting out shuddery rattles of breath, finally cried out and exhausted. After a while, Daryl helps him to his feet and guides him over to the couch. Jesus drops onto it, eyes puffy and red, nose running. Daryl goes to his bedroom and finds one of his winter blankets. Jesus looks so small sat there, lit by the glow of the TV, sniffing. Daryl sits next to him and covers his shoulders with the blanket.

Jesus turns to him, his face so full of remorse and shame, that Daryl almost wants to cry himself. "I'm so sorry, Daryl," he whispers, face starting to crumple again. "I thought it would be better for you to hate me..."

Daryl puts his arm around Jesus and Jesus rests his head on Daryl's shoulder. "Why? Why did you want me to hate you?"

"Because I was happy and I don't deserve to be," he starts to weep softly.

Daryl pulls Jesus close again. "Jesus, you deserve to be happy."

"It was my fault..."

Daryl presses his face into Jesus's neck. "No, don't think that. Don't ever think that."

Jesus leans against him. "I don't deserve you for a friend."

"Well, tough shit. You've got me."

Jesus huffs out a tiny laugh and Daryl can feel how tired he is, his weight pressing on Daryl, his breathing slowing down. He eases Jesus down onto the couch, getting up and lifting his legs onto the cushions, covering him with the blanket. Jesus's eyes watch him, drowsy and solemn.

"I'll just sleep for a little while, then I'll go," he says.

Daryl shakes his head. "Stay here tonight. I'll keep my bedroom door open if you need anything."

Jesus reaches up and takes Daryl's wrist, pulling him down so Daryl is kneeling on the floor, almost level with him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because," Daryl says.

Jesus's eyes search Daryl's face. "Because why?"

Daryl reaches out and runs his fingers through Jesus's hair, settling on the floor. "Just because."

Jesus closes his eyes, his breathing soft and even as Daryl strokes again and again.

"I'm such an asshole," Jesus murmurs, his voice heavy.

Daryl runs his hand through Jesus's hair again and then brushes the back of his hand across Jesus's cheek. "No, you're not."

Jesus makes a sound that could be words but then he's asleep. Daryl watches him for a long time, tucking Jesus's hair behind his ear, watching his shoulder rise and fall steadily. He eventually gets up and turns off the PS3, the room suddenly dark and he stands listening to Jesus's breathing. He goes quietly to his bedroom, leaving the door open and puts on his lamp. He changes into a white t-shirt and pyjama pants and sits on his bed, tired and shaking. He texts Michonne.

DARYL: Jesus's here. He's asleep on my couch

MICHONNE: Is everything okay? What happened?

DARYL: Long story. He's not okay but he's here at least

MICHONNE: Call me when you can.

DARYL: I will

He puts his phone down and goes to the living room again and takes one last look at Jesus. He's breathing deeply. Daryl gets into bed and turns off his lamp, wondering why he feels so strange before realising that the knot of fear that had tied up his stomach for so long is finally unwinding.

 

***

 

Daryl wakes at 8am on Monday morning, half expecting Jesus to be gone, but he's still asleep on the couch, in the Spencere position that Daryl left in him the night before. Daryl watches him for a moment and then goes to bathroom. He pads quietly through to the kitchen, closing the door as he makes coffee and boils some water. He sits at his desk and sketches for a little while. He looks up when he hears Jesus stirring.

Jesus sits up slowly, looking around and rubs his face.

"Hey," Daryl says softly and Jesus turns around, blinking sleepily.

"Hi," he replies.

Daryl gets up and makes Jesus a mug of tea. Jesus watches him as he puts the mug on the coffee table and sits next down to him. He wrings his hands as he sits.

"It was that stupid squirrel," Jesus finally says.

Daryl is confused. "Squirrel?"

"The day we went to Central Park. I...I'd been feeling really weird for a while...and..." he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out his phone. He flips through his photos and shows Daryl a picture. It's the one Jesus snapped of the squirrel eating the donut out of Daryl's hand. Daryl is smiling at the camera, looking overjoyed.

"I don't understand..." Daryl says.

Jesus looks down at the picture. "You just looked so...happy and innocent and it just made me feel like...I didn't deserve to know you...that I shouldn't be happy because of Tim and you just made me feel...like...you wanted to be friends with me and it didn't matter what had happened or what kind of person I was...or...I don't know what I'm trying to say..." He wipes his eyes, tears rolling down his face again.

"You should have talked to me," Daryl says.

Jesus leans back on the couch. "I know, I'm a fucking idiot. I thought...it was easier to push you away..."

Daryl puts an arm around him. "I really missed you."

Jesus makes a small laugh through his tears. "You're doing it again. I was so...cruel to you and you're just being so fucking good about it..." He turns to Daryl, his eyes pleading. "I can't believe I said what I said. You have to know that I didn't mean it, I didn't mean any of it..." He's still crying, his breath hitching.

Daryl smiles softly. "I know."

Jesus leans his head on Daryl's shoulder and they sit quietly for a moment.

"I missed you too," Jesus whispers and curls his arm around Daryl and Daryl thinks he could sit like this forever, just pressed against Jesus, holding him.

"I remember..." Jesus says, his voice small, "I remember lying there, and I could see my arm..."

Daryl holds his breath, and he realises that Jesus is asking him if it's okay to talk about this, in that way he asks without actually asking. Daryl gently rubs his hand up and down Jesus's arm in encouragement.

Jesus swallows. "I couldn't understand why I was seeing it but I couldn't move it...and I was trying to move my fingers and they weren't doing anything and I was wondering why my arm was way over there..." He stifles a sob.

Daryl closes his eyes, heart breaking slightly. "It's okay...it's okay..."

"...and I looked up and Tim was...everywhere. He was everywhere..."

"Oh god, Jesus, I'm so..." Daryl pulls him closer and lets him cry again, Jesus's arm tightening around him.

Jesus eventually pulls away, wiping his eyes. "God, it feels so good to be able...to tell you..." He runs his hands through his hair. "I feel like I've been holding it in for so long." He meets Daryl's eyes. "I wanted to talk to you but it never seemed..." He shakes his head.

"I know. I didn't want to push it. I'm glad you can talk to me." Daryl wipes his own eyes and gives a small laugh. "Fuck, I'm just glad you're talking to me again at all."

Jesus looks away for a moment, making his mind up about something. "Can I show you my arm?" he asks and Daryl can see how hard this is for him.

Daryl nods. Jesus pulls his hoodie off and drops it on the floor, looking horribly self-conscious in his black t-shirt. Daryl can see the prosthetic where it emerges from Jesus's sleeve, a mixture of plastic and metal that he can't quite understand. Jesus takes off his glove and drops it next to the hoodie. He holds out his hand and flexes the fingers, his brow knitting slightly, looking up at Daryl.

"Where...how much of your arm was...lost?" Daryl asks.

Jesus takes a breath and pulls off his t-shirt. The prosthetic extends all the way to his shoulder, a brace and a series of straps running across Jesus's chest and under his right arm and around his back. He points to a few inches below his shoulder. Daryl slides his hand into Jesus's left, feeling the metal fingers - they're lighter than he thought they would be - and he smiles. Jesus's fingers close around his hand and he let's out a quivering breath.

"It doesn't freak you out?"

Daryl shakes his head. "It's kind of cool. I can't believe they can do this."

Jesus nods and let's go of Daryl's hand, picking up his t-shirt and sliding it over his head. Daryl glances at the lean muscle of Jesus's body, what looks like an appendectomy scar on his side, and quickly looks away when Jesus pulls the t-shirt down. Jesus sits back against the couch and flexes his left hand again, not picking the glove back up.

"I missed my last four therapy sessions," Jesus says, studying his hand. "I guess...I need to call and make an appointment. Carol tried to call me a few times."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Daryl asks and Jesus looks up at him.

"But what about your work? I feel like I'm just...intruding on your life. I can't ask you to - "

"Yes, you can," Daryl says and Jesus smiles - Daryl's favourite smile, worn around the edges slightly but there, and he feels so damn good and happy and...he thought he would never see that smile again.

He glances at Daryl, more like the Jesus he knows again. "Thank you, Daryl. For...for everything. I'm fucked up, like really fucked up but..." He looks away. "You keep making me feel like maybe there'll be a time when I won't be."

Daryl can't think of anything else to say but "You're welcome," in a small voice, afraid that anything else will break him.

 

***

 

Jesus manages to get an appointment for 11:45am and heads back to his own apartment for a shower. Before he leaves, he stands in front of Daryl, rubbing his left arm, eyes full of uncertainty.

"We're okay?" he asks.

Daryl smiles. "We were always okay."

Jesus shakes his head. "I was such a - "

Daryl stops him. "Jesus..."

"But I hurt you." It's a statement, not a question.

Daryl looks at the floor. "You did. But...it doesn't matter now." He gives Jesus a little smile. "You're a jerk, but you're the best kind of jerk."

Jesus lunges forward and grabs Daryl in a tight hug. "You're such a punk," Jesus whispers and Daryl hugs him back.

"I know," he says into Jesus's shoulder.

Jesus pulls away. "Meet me in twenty minutes?"

Daryl nods and watches as Jesus goes down the stairs. He waits until he hears Jesus's apartment door close and heads into the bathroom for a shower. He makes it a minute before he starts to cry, the last week suddenly hitting him hard and he cries in sadness and weariness and relief.

 

***

 

They catch the bus to Jesus's therapist's office, Daryl feeling slightly motion sick by the time they get there, but not caring. The waiting room is modern but cosy and they sit down and wait together, the receptionist speaking quietly into an intercom as they do. Jesus looks nervous and Daryl nudges him gently, giving him a reassuring smile. Jesus smiles back.

A pretty petite woman with brown hair in a French Braid steps out of her office and smiles at Jesus, a genuinely happy smile.

"Paul," she says cheerfully and Jesus gets up, wiping his hands nervously on his jeans, hair falling into his face when he takes off his baseball cap. He turns and looks at Daryl before heading in. Daryl nods. Jesus goes into the office and the therapist gives Daryl a little smile, as though she recognises him. Daryl smiles back, slightly confused. She heads in after Jesus and the door closes.

Daryl sketches for the better part of two hours, not caring how long Jesus will be. He could sit here all day if he had to. Finally, the door opens and Jesus steps out with Dr Peletier, Daryl assumes from the certificates in the waiting room that he's had time to read. Jesus looks tired but calm, some brightness back in his eyes. He gives Daryl an encouraging smile and Daryl feels a tight warmth in his chest. Dr Peletier touches Jesus's arm, his left, Daryl notices and he turns to her and gives her a little hug.

"Remember what I said?" Dr Peletier says softly and Jesus nods. He indicates to Daryl.

"Um, this is my friend, Daryl."

Daryl stands up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm and holds out his hand. "Hello," he says shyly.

Dr Peletier beams at him and shakes his hand enthusiastically. "I'm so glad to meet you finally. I feel like I know you already."

Daryl isn't quite sure what to say and looks to Jesus for help, but Jesus is looking away, over at the receptionist's desk, his cheeks slightly red.

Dr Peletier lets go of Daryl's hand and turns back to Jesus. "I'll see you on Wednesday?"

Jesus nods. "Thank you."

She heads back into her office, giving them both one last smile.

Jesus puts his baseball cap on and rubs his face with a sigh. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

Daryl nods. "Yeah, that sounds good."

They leave the office and find a sandwich place down the street. They eat quietly, but it's not an awkward silence. Daryl catches Jesus looking at him a couple of times, his brow knitted slightly in worry, as though he thinks that Daryl is suddenly going to up and leave. Daryl gives him a light kick under the table and Jesus smiles.

When they get back to their building, Jesus hesitates on the second floor.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Daryl asks Jesus softly.

Jesus smiles and Daryl can almost feel the relief coming off of him. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Jesus chooses The Life Aquatic and they both slump on the couch, drowsy but content. Half-way through the movie, Jesus nods off, jolting awake with a start and giving Daryl the finger when he laughs. Daryl shifts himself around slightly and gently tugs on Jesus's sleeve, pulling him closer. Jesus scoots over and leans into Daryl, resting his head against him. Daryl puts his arm around Jesus's shoulder and they carry on watching and Jesus eventually falls asleep against him. When the movie ends, Daryl turns off the TV and just listens to Jesus breathing, warm and happy. He carefully picks up his phone and sends Michonne a text.

DARYL: I think we're going to be okay

Notes:

I hope this chapter was okay - there had to be some angst, I couldn't help myself but hopefully it was handled in an honest way.

So much thanks for the support and comments on this story so far - it's been a little overwhelming.


	8. Chapter 8

"I've been thinking about something..." Daryl begins carefully one afternoon while he's inking comic pages and Jesus is sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, writing in his journal. He's working on what Carol calls his "Positive Life Changes" - a list of things he wants to aim for and how he can go about working towards them. He's also taking a Cognitive Therapy Course once a week and has notes to write and different exercises to do.

"Is it Oblivion? Because you've been talking about it non-stop for the last three days," Jesus says, not looking up. They watched the movie a few days ago and Daryl has been obsessing over it ever since.

"No, well, yeah, but this is something else. Something kind of important. It's just a suggestion and you can say no if you think it's stupid..."

Jesus climbs up onto the couch and rests his head on the back, looking over at Daryl.

Daryl has been thinking about this ever since Jesus mentioned that he needs to start looking for a job, working over the practicalities in his mind a million times, how he can go about it, whether Jesus would even want to do it.

"You know your whole job situation?"

Jesus groans and throws his arms over the back of the couch. "Don't remind me..."

"Well, how would you feel about me teaching you some comic stuff in Photoshop and Illustrator? Um, I could show you how to flat pages for colouring, maybe some lettering. It's...it's nothing big but there are always artists looking for people to do stuff to save them time and I know Michonne is always looking for decent flatters...it's mostly technical so you wouldn't need to worry about if you can draw or not..." He glances over at Jesus. He's looking at Daryl, his brow knitted slightly like he can't quite believe that Daryl is still bothering with him. It's a look that Daryl has seen a lot over the last couple of weeks since everything became okay between them again and he's desperate to get Jesus to stop making it.

"You would do that?" he asks Daryl.

Daryl gives him a shrug. "Why not? I mean, you won't be raking in the money but it's kind of fun...and we can...work together..."

Jesus gets up and walks over to Daryl's desk. He's wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans (barefoot) and Daryl feels a swell of pride; Jesus doesn't wear his glove over his left hand any more and only wears hoodies when they go out. The fact that he's comfortable enough with Daryl now to not cover up his arm makes Daryl feel like they're heading in a new direction. Jesus has been doing a lot better since his breakdown, talking to Daryl more openly and keeping up with his therapy. Although he's cautious about it, he also touches Daryl as much as he can; small, tentative gestures, as though he's testing the water despite the fact that he's fallen asleep against Daryl more than a few times. He'll throw an arm around Daryl's shoulder more often than before, or rest a hand against the small of Daryl's back as he reaches for something in the kitchen when Daryl makes dinner. They hug every time Jesus leaves in the evenings and Daryl hadn't realised how much he himself was starved for the contact, elated by any chance to feel Jesus against him, having to check himself for how long he clings. They both seem unsure of how to proceed with physical affection since Jesus's breakdown; side-stepping around each other - wanting to touch, making small points of contact but hoping that the other will make the first move.

He comes around the desk and leans next to Daryl, careful not to dislodge a stack of paper and reference books. "But that's so much of your time..."

Daryl shakes his head. "It's not; we can maybe set a schedule for every other day to begin with, a few hours in the morning for me to show you stuff, then you can just play around for as long as you want. You kind of learn a lot through trial and error, to be honest. We'll make sure it doesn't clash with any of your therapy sessions..."

Jesus folds his arms and looks at the floor, chewing his lip, letting his hair flop over his face the way he does when he wants to hide how he feels and Daryl wishes that he could take a photo of him like this. He tries not to stare too much but he's finding it harder and harder not to. He feels like any time not spent taking Jesus in - the way he laughs at something Daryl has said, the face he makes when he's playing video games, how peaceful he looks when he falls asleep on the couch, when he gets playful and his eyes become huge and mischievous - is time wasted.

"I don't know what to say," Jesus says finally, looking at Daryl through his hair.

Daryl gives him a little lop-sided grin, eyes earnest, tilting his head. "Say yes?"

Jesus's face breaks into a huge smile and he pushes Daryl with his foot so he spins in his chair. "Okay. Yes."

Daryl laughs and grabs his desk, stopping himself mid-spin. "Awesome! I have an older laptop that you can use; it's still good but we can get you an external hard drive and I can set you up a table next to - "

Jesus grabs Daryl's hand and hoists him out of his chair. Daryl staggers forwards, almost head-butting Jesus in the chest.

He straightens up and Jesus is staring at him with sincere eyes. "You know how much I appreciate what you do for me, don't you?" His hand is still grasping Daryl's, firm and warm.

Daryl looks down at Jesus's fingers wrapped around his. "It's not much - "

"But it is. You...have no idea."

Daryl doesn't look up. "Um, do you still want to come to Vision-Con with me? It's at the end of next month."

Jesus squeezes Daryl's hand and Daryl looks up. "Of course I do," Jesus says. "I'd finally get to meet your friends, huh?" He lets go of Daryl's hand.

"Yeah," Daryl says with an excited smile. "I think you'll get on really well with them."

Jesus runs and hand through his hair. "I hope so."

Daft Punk starts to blare from Daryl's laptop and Jesus gets that look on his face that Daryl dreads - the one that means that he's going to try and get Daryl to dance. Daryl immediately sits down and is about to face his desk to start drawing again but Jesus grabs him and drags him out of his workspace.

"Come on, Daryl - indulge me in my need to throw some shapes."

Daryl loves it when Jesus calls him Daryl. "You can throw all the shapes you want. I'm more than happy to watch." He tries to twist out of Jesus's grasp but Jesus just starts to dance around him, feet moving impossibly fast, doing the Eugeneot thing with his arms - he's getting much better with his left - that Daryl could watch for hours.

"Do a few steps and I'll let you go," Jesus says with a wicked smile.

Daryl groans and indicates the music. "I'm too slow for this." He tries to evade but Jesus just starts to block him with body-pops.

Daryl laughs and puts his hands on his hips. "You know this is torture for me, right?"

Jesus pouts out his lower lip and pokes Daryl on the shoulder.

Daryl lets out an exasperated sigh and looks down at his feet, trying to remember some of the moves Jesus showed him. He dances a few feet across the wood floor, trying to do something with his arms but feeling like a total idiot. Jesus hoots in delight and grabs Daryl's hand pulling him around in a circle.

"You said you'd let me go if I danced and I did!" Daryl cries as he's spun, but Jesus looks so happy, he's not trying all that hard to get away.

Jesus eventually lets him go and continues to dance to the track, making it look effortless, hair flying every which way, eyes closed with a little half smile on his face and Daryl just watches, fully admitting to himself for the first time, that he's totally and utterly in love with Jesus Rovia.

 

***

 

That evening, they watch Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes. Daryl does an impersoMichonneion of Caesar that has Jesus laughing and amazed, making Daryl shout "No!" and say "Caesar is home" again and again until he starts coughing from making his voice that low and grating.

They start to try and out-do each other with monkey noises, Daryl reminding Jesus every two minutes that they're apes in the movie, not monkeys until Jesus throws a cushion at him and tells him to stop being such a nerd. This descends into a full-on cushion fight complete with screeching ape noises until they both freeze when a particularly louder-than-usual series of bangs comes from the far wall. They stop mid-screech, falling silent.

"Yeek; I'd forgotten about ol' Abraham Ford," Jesus whispers to Daryl.

"Why are you whispering?" Daryl asks.

"I don't know," Jesus says and they both start to laugh.

 

***

 

Jesus has a therapy session with Carol followed by CBT the next morning and won't be over until mid-afternoon, so Daryl heads down to his storage cage in the basement. He finds the folding table he used as a temporary desk when he first moved in and drags it back up his apartment, hoping there aren't any spiders in it when he unfolds it. He pushes it up against the back of his own desk; there's a bit less space in the living room now but if it means being able to look up from his own computer and watch Jesus at the desk in front of him, he doesn't care. He digs out his old laptop and boots it up. Everything still works fine and he clears out any unnecessary files. He stands back, slightly nervous but excited too.

Skype starts to chirp so Daryl sits back at his own desk.

"Good morning, Michonne," he sing-songs.

"Well, someone sounds happy. Did they decide to bring Deep Space Nine back or something?"

"No, but they should."

Michonne sucks in a breath. "Daryl, we've talked about this. It's Next Gen or nothing."

They squabble about Star Trek for five minutes until Daryl calls for a ceasefire.

"So, how are you?" Michonne asks.

"I'm good," Daryl says, moving his light box to the side and sliding across his latest page.

"I'm going to assume that Jesus is also good from the tone of your voice and horribly cheerful demeanour this early in the morning."

Daryl smiles down at his latest page. "Yeah, Jesus's doing good. It's...it's going really well."

"I'm really happy to hear that. I hate to think now there was a time when that might not have been the case," Michonne replies.

Daryl swallows. "Yeah..."

"What's wrong?" Michonne is quicker to voice concern now whenever Daryl sounds even slightly off.

"No, nothing's wrong, everything's..." Daryl hesitates and lets out a shaky breath. "I think I'm in love with him, Michonne. Like, really in love with him."

He can hear the smirk in Michonne's voice when she speaks again. "Well, no duh, Daryl. I could've told you that weeks ago."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you talk about him all the time, like ALL THE TIME. And your voice goes all moony and dreamy when you talk about him. Also, you drew him into the comic you work on, so yeah, it's totally obvious."

Daryl makes a small moaning noise. "God, how is he not totally onto me?"

"It could be that he does notice and maybe feels the Spencere way but because you're both idiots, you won't say anything to each other." Michonne is using the tone that Rick calls Michonne's Annoying Preachy Voice.

Daryl lets out a pained sigh. "I can't say anything, not yet. He's doing really well at the moment and I don't want to do anything that might upset things. I just...I need some time."

"For you or for him?" Michonne asks softly.

Daryl is quiet for a long beat. "For me. I can't...I can't think that I might lose him again, Michonne."

Michonne gives a soft sigh. "Me and Rick have had to adjust our bet like twenty times, you realise."

"You're still doing that?!"

Michonne gives an evil little laugh. "So, have you told Jesus that HIS issue of Winter Soldier is out next week?"

"No, I'm going to tell him when he comes over later. I didn't tell you - he agreed to the whole me teaching him Photoshop thing."

"Oh, awesome! Do a good job, Daryl, because I need a really good flatter. Hank is a fucking nightmare and I'm really starting to resent paying him the page rate I'm paying him."

Daryl laughs. "I'll try my best. It might not work out but...we'll see."

"So, are we finally going to get to meet him at Vision-Con next month?" Daryl can hear the expectation in Michonne's voice.

"Yes, he's coming with me."

Michonne squeals and claps her hands. "Oh my god, I can't wait! We've booked our hotel - "

"Michonne! You could have stayed with me!"

"We didn't want to impose - also, it might have been weird given everything that's happened with you and Jesus so we wanted to give you guys some space. I also think we need to ease him into our intense insult-driven friendship."

Daryl gives a soft laugh. "That's appreciated, Michonne. Still, next time you stay with me."

"Deal. Oh, how's your hair doing? Think you might need a trim by the time we get here?"

Daryl rolls his eyes. "You know what, I think I will...and maybe some more gel..."

Michonne gives a victorious laugh. "Daryl Dixon, you totally owe us for that haircut!"

 

***

 

Jesus knocks on Daryl's door at 2:15pm and Daryl let's him in, taking the bag of Twizzlers that Jesus shoves into his face. There seems to be this unspoken thing between them that Jesus knows how much Daryl likes Strawberry Twizzlers and buys him a bag any chance he gets.

"How was therapy?" Daryl asks, pleased that he can and that Jesus will talk about it.

"Yeah, it was good. I actually feel like I'm getting somewhere. Slowly, but getting somewhere." He gives Daryl a little shrug and puts down his backpack. He spots the new table, giving Daryl an excited little grin.

"Is that my desk?"

Daryl nods and they walk over. He'd brought in a chair from his bedroom that had just always ended up with clothes slung over it, left over from the last tenant of the apartment.

"We'll have to get you a better chair but hopefully this is cool for now. You can use my graphics tablet for the time being - I only really use it for tidying up my scans. I know it's not much to look at..."

Jesus sits down, facing Daryl's desk. "Daryl, this is great, honestly. I told Carol about this and she was really happy. She thinks it's a great idea."

Daryl can't help but smile. "Good. I, uh...good."

Jesus looks at him. "Can we start now?"

Daryl blinks. "Now? Like right now?"

Jesus gives a nod. "Yeah, I'm in a really good headspace so..."

"Okay," Daryl says, suddenly feeling very excited and he goes around his desk, pulling his chair around to Jesus's table. He remembers something and goes to one of his paperwork drawers and finds a blank notebook. "This will be useful; you'll pEugeneably need to take a ton of notes to begin with." He hands Jesus a pen.

Jesus takes a breath as Daryl boots up the laptop. "Okay, hopefully I wont make too much of a mess of this..."

Daryl gives him a friendly punch on the arm. "Okay, I guess we'll start with page sizes..."

Daryl spends two hours teaching Jesus about page formats, what dpi sizes are best for print, basic navigation in Photoshop, how to set up a basic file; all the while Jesus is making notes and asking questions. Daryl didn't realise how much he would enjoy this and he starts to feel relaxed and confident as he talks Jesus through everything. He shows Jesus how to use the graphics tablet, laughing as Jesus constantly looks down at what his hand is doing rather than up at the screen following the cursor.

"Yeah, this is going to take some getting used to," Jesus mutters as he holds the stylus and tries to select the image menu.

Daryl sits back in his chair and stretches. "We won't over-do it. It's a lot to take in. If you're up for doing some more tomorrow, I can show you some basic scanning and line art adjustments? It'll pEugeneably be good practise for using the tablet."

Jesus flexes his hand. "Yeah, that sounds really good. I'm actually kind of enjoying this. It's been a while since I learnt anything new; I think my brain kind of went dormant for a while."

Daryl gets up and moves his chair back to his desk, sitting down. Jesus smiles at him from his desk and raises an eyebrow. "This is pretty cool. I still can't...thank you so much for doing this. I...you know..." he fiddles with the stylus, "you're...fuck it, I can't speak." He hides behind his hair.

Daryl throws a balled up post-it note at Jesus and he looks up. "Oh, so this is what I can expect in the workplace?"

Daryl gives a snigger as Jesus throws the wad back and he ducks out of the way. "Oh! I totally forgot," Daryl says. "The issue of Winter Soldier with you in it...well, your...uh, character, is out next week."

Jesus's face lights up. "No shit!"

"I thought we could go to the comic book store and pick up a copy," Daryl tries not to stare too long into Jesus's eyes.

"Well, yeah! Don't you get any free copies though, from the publisher or whatever?"

"They send me a bunch but it's usually a couple of weeks after each issue is out. I could ask for a PDF but I thought it would be...I don't know...more of a thing to go and buy it."

Jesus watches Daryl for a moment over the top of his laptop, his mouth quirked up in a strange little grin.

"What?" Daryl asks with a nervous smile.

Jesus shakes his head. "Nothing. You want noodles tonight? I think I want noodles."

 

***

 

Daryl starts to call Michonne at night just before he goes to bed, instead of their usual morning calls, apologising for screwing up their routine but wanting to feed Jesus's enthusiasm for the design work they've started. Michonne feigns being put out, but he knows she would do anything for him if it meant him and Jesus getting closer.

"This had better pay off," she gripes one evening, "do you have any idea how excruciating it is waiting for you two to hook up?"

Jesus is fast to pick up everything that Daryl shows him over the next couple of days, much to Daryl's delight and surprise. He finally clicks with the graphics tablet as soon as Daryl shows him some basic colouring with one of his older Winter Soldier pages. He shows Jesus how to set layers and pulls the Spencere page, finished with Michonne's colours, off of his USB stick and puts them side by side.

"If you hide these layers," Daryl explains, pointing to the screen, "you can see how Michonne builds up the colours from the flats, which is on this layer. You can pretty much just select the Spencere colours for each character or scene from these when you do a new page. Just hold alt when you have the paint Jesuset selected and it'll turn into the eye-dropper. Then you just click and...." Jesus does it and starts to fill in areas on the line art page.

"Awesome! And that's kind of it. For flats, you wont have to do much more than point and click half the time, maybe a bit of drawing just to tidy up line-art. It's not a glamorous job but it saves Michonne so much time if someone else does them. Although the guy who flats for her now is an ass who always tries to get more money out of her."

Jesus frowns. "She pays the flatter out of her own money?"

Daryl sighs. "Yeah. But I know she'd rather pay someone who isn't a douche bag so if you get the hang of it and think you might want to give it a go..."

"You think she'd be interested?" Jesus asks.

"She already said she would be."

Jesus gives Daryl a sly little look. "So you talk about me a lot with her?"

Daryl feels a flush start to creep up his neck. "Well, I told her about showing you all of this...and she...uh...she said if you got good at it...and...yeah..."

Jesus turns back to the line art, holding back a smile. "Uh huh."

Daryl clears his throat and moves his chair back around the desk. "I'll, uh, leave you to it."

 

***

 

The next evening, they watch The Lego Movie and a day later, Daryl wishes they hadn't because Jesus will not stop singing Everything Is Awesome. Daryl loves it when Jesus sings; he has a great voice and it sends little shivers up Daryl's spine and into...other places...when he sings along to whatever songs he knows on Daryl's laptop, but this is starting to drive him nuts. He sings it when he comes over in the morning, he hums it while Daryl is showing him how to fix a page when he accidentally works on the wrong layer, he sings it when he goes into the bathroom and he's still singing it when he comes back out.

Daryl finally snaps that afternoon. Jesus is working on a page, just to see how long it will take him to flat, singing that damn song under his breath, pEugeneably unaware that he's doing it.

"Oh my fucking god, Jesus. Please stop singing that song. I can't take it anymore." Daryl takes his glasses off and scrubs at his face.

Jesus looks up, surprised. "What?"

Daryl runs his hands through his hair and grabs a fist full. "That FUCKING SONG is driving me insane. You sing it all the time and I'm getting to the point where I want to flip my desk."

Jesus gives him a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry. I can't get it out of my head. It's so catchy."

"I know but I'm going to go full-blown Darkman if you don't stop it soon. Please..."

Jesus holds up his hands. "Okay, okay. I'm officially cutting myself off."

Daryl lets out a breath. "Thank you."

He carries on with his sketching for a while, then he hears Jesus singing it again, softly under his voice. Daryl looks up at him. Jesus's eyes are glued to the screen in front of him and he seems totally unaware that he's doing anything.

"Jesus..." Daryl says, real annoyance in his voice now.

"Oh shit, sorry. Sorry." Jesus says and holds up a hand. He returns to his work.

A few more minutes pass and he's doing it again. Daryl looks up, putting his pencil down with a sharp tap on his desk. "Jesus..." he says again and this time he sees the smile creeping across Jesus's face as he starts to sing it louder, eyes fixed on Daryl, his shit-eating grin getting bigger.

"I mean it. Stop...don't get louder!"

Jesus stands up singing and pointing at Daryl. "Everything Is Awesome...!"

Daryl stands up and leans across his desk. "Jesus, it's not funny any - don't cut me off!"

Jesus is singing at full-volume, his voice breaking as he laughs too. He starts to jump up and down.

Daryl makes a noise and runs around his desk. Jesus gives a little shriek and dodges away, still singing, and vaults over the back of the couch, scrabbling to get away from Daryl who howls when he catches his shin on the edge of the coffee table. He grabs the bottom of Jesus's t-shirt but falls onto the couch face-first as Jesus gets away. He runs back towards Daryl's desk, turning around and dancing.

"Everything is bet-ter when we stick togeeeeether...!"

Daryl starts to shout at him to stop, laughing now as Jesus sings louder and more out of tune and Daryl grabs him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, shaking him back and forth. Hobo Guy starts to pound furiously on the wall but Daryl and Jesus don't care, Jesus laughing hysterically as Daryl stumbles and they both go down. Jesus grabs one of Daryl's legs and sits on him, Daryl yelping at him to get off when he realises what Jesus is about to do.

"No, no, no, Jesus that's not funny, tickling is a form of torture in some countries - " He shrieks frantically when Jesus tickles the bottom of his foot.

Jesus laughs manically as Daryl squirms beneath him. "Yeah, not so tough now!"

Daryl grabs at Jesus, shrieking and begging for him to stop and suddenly, Hobo Guy ups the tempo, banging on the wall so hard, a few books fall off of Daryl's bookcase. Jesus stops and looks over at the fallen books, wide-eyed. Daryl wriggles out from under him and gives Jesus a look.

"Shit, I think we really pissed him off." Daryl is suddenly worried.

Jesus snorts. "Pffftt, he's not going to come over and tell us to stop. He only leaves his apartment in the dead of night. I think passive-aggressive wall pounding is the best he can do."

Daryl gets up and pulls at his t-shirt. "I'll remember that when I wake up at 2am and he's in my room with a knife to my throat..."

Jesus puts a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Then you just run and come get me. I'll beat him off for you."

Daryl gives a little snigger. "You'll beat him off?"

Jesus rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean..."

Daryl tries to be a serious as he can manage. "Will you beat him off with both hands?"

Jesus smacks him on the arm. "For fuck's sake, Daryl. I'm trying to tell you that I'd fight Jason Fucking Voorhees for you - " He stops suddenly. "You know," he adds quickly, "if it...came down to it..." He looks away towards the fallen books.

Daryl feels like all of his internal organs have suddenly switched places, not sure what to make of Jesus's grand gesture, if it means anything at all. Whatever Daryl thinks, Jesus looks uncomfortable, rubbing his left arm.

"Jason isn't all that," Daryl finally says. "If you'd have said Freddy Krueger maybe..."

Jesus turns to Daryl, managing a little smile. "Jason beat the shit out of Freddy Krueger..."

Daryl folds his arms and looks down at the floor. "Fine, but it would take both of us to beat Jason. You could distract him because he's kind of slow - just watch out for his machete because he's mean with that thing, and I'd go and look for a big rock to bash his head in with and then he'd be all like "ouch, my maggot head" and pass out and we'd both have to find a way to dispose of him so he doesn't come back from the dead AGAIN - "

Jesus starts to laugh. "Do you just think about this stuff all the time? How to fight off movie bad guys?"

Daryl gives him a disbelieving look. "Jesus, there are like twelve of those movies and nothing EVER works on Jason. If you're going to fight him for me, you need to think about these things."

Jesus does that thing with his bottom lip that Daryl can't look at for too long without just wanting to grab him and pull him onto the floor. "I guess you're right."

Daryl rubs the back of his neck. "I'm really hungry. Let's go and get some food."

 

***

 

They head out of Daryl's apartment and make it a few feet down the hall, still arguing about how to kill Jason, when Jesus suddenly realises that he doesn't have his hoodie and makes Daryl go back so he can get it, not quite ready to venture out with his arm completely exposed. Daryl makes an over exaggerated groan and starts to unlock his front door again. Suddenly, Hobo Guy's apartment door flies open and he steps out into the hall. Daryl and Jesus both freeze in terror and Daryl feels Jesus's hand clutching desperately at his jacket sleeve. Daryl thinks he's going to puke.

Hobo Guy - Abraham Ford - is as terrifying as Daryl thought he would be. He remembers what Jesus said when he first found out his name - that he sounds like a guy who lives in the woods and makes friends with bears - and he can totally see it now, minus the big gnarly beard. His facial hair is kind of weird, though. Ford is tall and feral looking, with intense, piercing eyes. Daryl can't quite tell how old he is, but he looks kind of haggard. And he looks angry. Really angry. He stops just outside of his apartment door and points at the two of them. They both unconsciously take a step back.

"Do you have any idea," he says slowly, his voice low and gravelly, and Daryl's insides turn to water, "how loud you little pricks are?"

Jesus makes a weird noise in his throat and Daryl says "Guh". Jesus's hand tightens on his sleeve.

Ford slowly raises a hand above his head, eyes unblinking, staring them both down. "I've had it up to here with all the shouting and the screaming and the banging..." His eyes flit down to Jesus's left arm and he pauses, his frown easing slightly. He straightens up and gives Jesus a long look, eyes still intense, arms folded. Daryl can smell something like cigar smoke coming from Ford's apartment.

"You military?"

Jesus flinches slightly and lets go of Daryl's sleeve. Daryl glances sideways at him; he's standing up a bit straighter, defensive.

"Yes. No. I...I was" he manages, his voice hard.

Ford's eyes narrow. "Afghanistan?"

Jesus starts slightly. "How did y - yes."

Daryl watches the exchange, unmoving.

"Haven't seen you at the VA," Ford says, and his voice is less harsh but still severe.

Jesus shakes his head. "I don't go."

"You should."

Jesus's face hardens into a frown. "What would you know - " he begins before backing off, stepping closer to Daryl.

If Ford is offended, he doesn't show it, just leans against his door frame with his arms folded, watching Jesus closely. "Iraq. Four tours."

Jesus shifts on his feet. "Oh."

"What are you, twenty-four? Twenty-five?"

Jesus nods. "Uh, twenty-six."

Ford straightens back up. "You should go. You're too young to have to deal with that shit by yourself. You may not think you need to, but I would if I were you. I'm going on Thursday. 8pm." Daryl can't quite tell if this is an invitation for Jesus to join him or not.

Daryl sees Jesus swallow and he side-steps closer to Daryl again. Daryl gently puts a hand on his back and Jesus leans into it slightly. He doesn't respond to Ford's offer, if that's what it is.

Ford gives an annoyed grunt and finally turns and walks back into his apartment. "Keep the goddamned noise down, assholes. And stop going through my fuckin' mail box," he says before the door slams closed.

Daryl and Jesus stand in the hallway for another minute, not moving.

Jesus finally stirs. "I think I shit myself," he says quietly.

 

***

 

They're both still a bit shaky as they eat their noodles, not quite believing what just happened.

"How did he know we were going through his mail?" Daryl asked, taking a gulp of soda.

Jesus pushes a piece of kamaboko around his bowl with his chopsticks. "Hmm," he says, not really listening to what Daryl is saying. He's been quiet since they finally managed to grab Jesus's hoodie from Daryl's apartment and practically run out of the building.

Daryl watches him for a moment. "You know, maybe you should go to that meeting," he says softly.

Jesus looks up at him. "You're kidding right? With...with that guy?"

"It might be a good idea."

Jesus's face hardens and he looks down. "No."

"Why not?" Daryl knows he might be pushing a bit, that Jesus obviously doesn't want to talk about this.

"Because it was hard enough to talk to you about everything. I don't think I could handle telling a bunch of strangers about..." He stares down into his bowl.

Daryl puts down his own chopsticks. "Jesus, you know you can talk to me about anything, and I know you talk to Carol about everything but...maybe talking with people who know exactly what you're going through and have gone through the Spencere thing...similar things...it might help."

"Daryl, no. I don't want to and I don't want to talk about it," he says firmly.

Daryl just sighs. "Okay," he says gently.

Jesus is silent for a long time, frowning and chewing his lip. When he finally does speak again, it's to ask Daryl if he can buy Borderlands for Daryl's PS3 because he really wants to play it. Daryl says of course he can.

They eat the rest of their food in silence. When they leave and head back to the apartment, Jesus is still quiet and Daryl tries not to feel too concerned; Jesus has been doing great lately - Daryl loves that he's back to his playful, fun self - but he needs someone else to talk to about his time in Afghanistan and Daryl can't quite provide that outlet for him, as much as he would like to be able to. He doesn't really think that Ford is the right person either, although it surprised him when he seemed to reach out to Jesus, however terrifying that was. Daryl can only be there for Jesus in the best way he knows how.

Daryl starts to sing Everything Is Awesome softly, not looking at Jesus as he does, self-conscious about his singing voice which always comes out higher than he wants it to, but singing anyway. He gets to the second line and glances at Jesus who is staring at him with a smile tinted with wonder, like he can't believe that Daryl indulges him as much as does, and Daryl just sings louder. Jesus finally joins in and Daryl throws an arm around Jesus's shoulder. He feels a jolt of happiness as Jesus puts his arm around Daryl's waist and he wants more than anything to lean in, just lean in and kiss Jesus softly on the cheek. But he doesn't. He just sings as loud as Jesus, both of them getting odd looks from people on the street and Daryl can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed.

 

***

 

Jesus has a panic attack on Thursday morning. They finish up with some more work in Photoshop and he goes down to his own apartment, which he spends less and less time in, to take some laundry down to the basement. Daryl has a short chat with Glenn over Skype, both of them talking excitedly about Vision-Con.

"So, will we get to meet the infamous Jesus of whom Captain Dixon was so keen to talk about in horribly explicit detail?" Glenn asks with a little snigger.

"Yes, you will and I will kill all of you without hesitation if you mention ANY of what I said in Chicago to him," Daryl replies quickly.

Glenn laughs. "Like we would. But there's no way I'll be able to look at you both without thinking about you doing those things. I hope you realise that."

"I think that says more about you than it does about me, Glenn. You should really talk to Maggie about that."

"Dude, I'm an artist - my imagiMichonneion is a thing that runs all by itself. I can't help it if you feed it images of gay porn involving my friends and it just goes with it."

They talk for a few more minutes before hanging up. Daryl sketches for a while before realising that Jesus has been gone longer than it usually takes to do a load of laundry in their building's crappy machines. He knows that Jesus will pEugeneably chide him for checking up on him, but Daryl heads down to his apartment anyway. There's no answer when he knocks and he suddenly feels uneasy, walking down the stairs quickly to the basement. He heads through the storage cages and by the ancient boiler which breaks down every winter, without fail, usually during heavy snow.

"Shit," he mutters to himself when he sees Jesus on the floor, breath rasping, eyes wide and scared and breaks into a run.

He kneels down besides Jesus, pulling him into a sitting position, Jesus grabbing Daryl's arm tightly.

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here," Daryl says. He shuffles them up to the wall and rubs his hand up and down Jesus's back. Jesus's breath is hitching horribly in his throat, his right hand gripping his knee, white at the knuckles.

"Okay, breathe. Breathe Jesus, okay? Try and take a deep breath or you'll start to hyperventilate."

Jesus shakes his head frantically but Daryl can see him trying. He pulls Jesus closer. "You're okay. Just think about Ghost Shark and how fucking ridiculous that movie was."

He can feel another hitch in Jesus's breathing which means he's trying to laugh and eventually, his breaths aren't as frantic. Daryl continues to talk about bad shark movies and Jesus rests his head against the wall, eyes closed, breathing through his nose. When he opens them, his breathing is slightly shuddery, but otherwise okay. He glances at Daryl with apologetic eyes. Daryl just shakes his head and squeezes Jesus's shoulder.

"I can't keep doing this to you," Jesus says, his voice shaky.

"You'd rather be on your own when this happens? I'm just glad I thought something was up and came down to check."

Jesus lets out an angry sigh. "This is so fucked up. One minute I'm fine, the next I'm just all...scared for no reason and thinking that I'm underground, in the dirt..." He rubs his eyes.

Daryl squeezes his shoulder again. "Jesus, go to the VA meeting."

Jesus looks up at him, frowning. "Daryl, no. I don't want to go to that fucking meeting - "

"Jesus, will you just - "

" - with that fucking psycho who thinks he knows - "

" - shit, Jesus! Just...do it for me, okay?" Daryl blurts, without thinking. Jesus's mouth snaps closed and he looks at Daryl for a moment, still frowning, his eyes darting across Daryl's before he looks away at the washers which have fallen silent, their cycles over.

"Fine," he says at last. "Fine. But...I'm doing it for you. Not for me."

Daryl stands up and holds out his hand. "Come on."

Jesus looks up at him and shakes his head in resigMichonneion, letting Daryl pull him up. Daryl helps him load the dryer and they head back upstairs. Jesus freezes at Daryl's door when Daryl walks straight by it to Ford's apartment.

He turns and looks at Jesus before knocking, giving Jesus a get-over-here gesture. Jesus stalks over and stands next to him. Daryl hesitates for a second, then knocks. There's nothing for a minute, then they hear heavy footfalls. They both suck in a breath.

Ford opens his door and frowns down at them. "What?" he says, bluntly.

Daryl nudges Jesus but he doesn't say anything, just stares not-quite at Ford, mouth tight.

"He wants to go to the meeting," Daryl says quickly.

Ford looks at Daryl for a second, then looks at Jesus. "Do you? Or does your boyfriend make all your decisions for you?"

They both tense, Daryl flushing immediately, his defences up, but then realises, slightly mortified, that Ford didn't say it in a derogatory tone, just as a matter of fact.

"He's not my boyfriend," Daryl and Jesus both say together and look at each other, surprised, Daryl aware that Jesus looks as red as he himself feels.

Ford gives them a little snort that could be a laugh and then shifts impatiently on his feet. "So, yes or no? Are you coming or what?" He snaps.

Jesus breaks his gaze from Daryl and tries, not quite successfully to look Ford in the eyes. "Yes," he says, slightly begrudgingly and Daryl, in all of his mortification, can't help but be proud of Jesus.

"Fine," Ford says."7:30pm, out here. I don't like being late." He slams the door in their faces.

They both stand staring at the door for a moment, and Daryl finally glances at Jesus. Jesus is staring back at him and they seem unable to break eye contact. Jesus eventually smiles, holding back a nervous snigger and Daryl bites his lip to keep from laughing and the tension breaks. They hustle back into Daryl's apartment.

Jesus woofs out a breath. "Fuck, that guy scares the shit out of me. I can't believe you're making me do this."

Daryl takes his glasses off and rubs his forehead. "I think I preferred him when he was just a noise on the other side of the wall."

Jesus walks over to his desk and sits down. "Well, you've opened the floodgates now. I'm blaming you totally."

Daryl sits down, picking up his pencil. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll want to come over and watch Rick and Morty with us and play Mario Kart until 2am."

Jesus chuffs and Daryl puts his music on and they work in silence, neither of them wanting to quite acknowledge what Ford said, but both recognizing that the atmosphere around them has changed yet again.

 

***

 

At 7:15pm, Jesus is a nervous wreck and Daryl shoves a glass of water in his face.

"Just calm down and drink this."

Jesus takes a gulp of water and splutters as it goes down the wrong way. "I don't want to do this. I've changed my mind," he says in a tight voice when he finishes coughing.

"Just go and see what it's like. That's all - you don't have to talk if you don't want to."

Jesus nods and runs his hands through his hair. "Yeah, okay. Okay. I just wish you were coming with me."

Daryl does too but they spoke about it and agreed that Jesus needs to do this on his own.

"You'll be fine. Just try not to piss off Happy Abraham and you'll be fine."

Jesus puts on his hoodie and jacket, looking around for his baseball cap. Daryl sees it tucked under a cushion on the couch and hands it to him. Jesus kneads it in his hands. "Yeah," he says finally. "Okay."

They head out into the hall to wait, Daryl just as nervous as Jesus. At 7:26pm, Ford's door opens and he comes out into the hall, wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a old faded leather jacket. He gives them both a stern look and locks his apartment. He strides straight by them and heads down the stairs.

"You coming or what?" he calls back to Jesus.

Jesus jumps and hurries after him, looking back at Daryl, face worried. Daryl gives him a smile and a wave, feeling a small ache in his chest as Jesus disappears down the stairs. He heads back into his apartment and flops onto the couch, knowing he won't get any work done while he waits for Jesus to come back and texts Michonne.

DARYL: So Jesus just left for a VA meeting with our scary neighbour...

MICHONNE: He actually went?

DARYL: I talked him into it

MICHONNE: Because he loooovvvvveeeessss you....

DARYL: Don't start

MICHONNE: He did it FOR YOU

DARYL: Why do I bother telling you anything again?

MICHONNE: So I can tell you what an idiot you are, idiot. Rick says you're an idiot too

 

***

 

Daryl makes a grab for his phone just over an hour later when a text comes in.

JESUS: On my way back

DARYL: How was it??

JESUS: Tell you when back, he's watching me

Daryl waits in the hall for them, pacing, ducking back into the apartment when he hears the building door open and two sets of feet clumping up the stairs. Ford comes up first, scowling when he sees him. Jesus follows behind him, making a wide-eyed face at Daryl. Ford strides by and unlocks his apartment door.

"Um, do you want to - " Daryl begins, too polite for his own good.

"Nope," Ford says and slams his door.

Jesus hurries over to Daryl and pushes him back inside his apartment, closing the door. He leans against it and takes his baseball cap off.

"Holy crap, that was intense. Do you have any beer?"

Daryl runs to the kitchen and grabs two bottles, handing one to Jesus who is sitting on the couch, legs outstretched.

"So, how was it?" Daryl says, sitting beside him and taking a swig of his own beer.

Jesus shakes his head. "I didn't say much, but listening to the others...it was...so fucking sad. He talked a lot." He nods towards Ford's apartment. "He got pretty badly injured; he's got metal plates and pins everywhere by the sounds of it. He saw a lot of people die and blamed himself for most of it. I can kind of see why he's...the way he is. Why he doesn't want to talk to anyone."

"Shit," Daryl says quietly.

Jesus frowns slightly. "I think I'll go back, but...I don't know if I could talk about Tim." He takes a long drink and sits for a while, thinking.

"Are you glad you went?" Daryl asks finally.

Jesus gives a small nod. "Yeah, I think I am."

 

***

 

The next few days see a huge improvement in Jesus's work; he can set up files in next to no time, tidy up line art and seems to be a Michonneural at laying down colours. They're working him towards doing some actual flats for a later issue of Winter Soldier, as soon as Jesus feels like he can do it. Daryl is thrilled, not just because his idea is actually going somewhere, but because Jesus seems to be happy that he's found something he's good at and that he genuinely enjoys. His desk is as messy as Daryl's now, with graphic novels stacked up haphazardly, post-it notes everywhere and Jesus's therapy paperwork in a neat little stack on the end of the table. He left his Positive Life Changes journal at Daryl's one night and Daryl almost took a look, but put it down as fast as he picked it up, feeling horribly guilty for even considering reading it - Jesus's therapy is private and Daryl only wants to know what Jesus chooses to share with him.

They have fun together too, working in the Spencere space. They listen to music and talk, sometimes just working quietly, happy to be in each other's company. Daryl also looks at Jesus a lot; he can't help himself. He tries to nonchalantly steal glances at Jesus when his head is down, looking at his notes, or flipping through a comic to study some colours. A few times he looks up from his own work and thinks he sees Jesus quickly looking away from him and his heart leaps. Could he...? But he's as quick to shoot down the idea as he is to accept it. It's easier to be negative. It also terrifies Daryl slightly to think that there's a chance that Jesus could feel the Spencere way about him.

Wednesday morning, Jesus comes bounding in through Daryl's front door when he opens it for him, grabbing Daryl and dragging him in a manic waltz around the living room. It's new comic book day and Jesus is stupidly excited to see his character design in print.

"When can we go?" he says, finally letting Daryl sit at his desk.

Daryl lays a page on his scanner and fiddles with his laptop. "They don't open until 10am. It's only 8:45am now."

Jesus lets out a melodramatic wail as he sits in his own chair.

"Plus, the new comics don't usually come in until 10:30am and they need to unpack."

Jesus wails louder. "Can't you just show me the pages now? I know you have them."

Daryl shakes his head. "No, we're going to the comic book store."

Jesus gives him the stink-eye. Daryl just smiles sweetly at him.

Jesus finally convinces Daryl to leave for the store at 10:25am and they head down the block, Daryl basking in Jesus's excitement, trying not to look at him too doe-eyed and love-sick, trying his best to focus on whatever conversation they're having.

They reach the comic book store and Jesus heads straight to the new comics. The Spencere two guys from before are at the counter, checking off a huge stack of graphic novels on several invoices. The bigger of the two holds a hand up to them in greeting. Jesus gives a small squeak when he spots the new issue of Winter Soldier and sMichonneches up a copy. Daryl chews his thumbnail, his stomach suddenly trying to exit through his mouth.

Jesus finds the two pages with his character on them and makes a pleased little noise, before falling silent, just staring down at the panels. Michonne has done a really great job with the colours on this issue and, Daryl couldn't help but notice when she sent them across to him weeks ago, she'd really focused particularly on Jesus's character. Daryl is starting to get nervous at Jesus's silence and pokes him on the arm.

"Well?" he says.

Jesus turns to him and shakes his head. "This is...this is so cool." He looks Daryl in the eyes with such intensity that Daryl has to turn away, worried that Jesus will see his infatuation.

"You're so talented," Jesus says, looking at the pages again. "You've made me look so much better than I really do." He flicks though the rest of the issue.

No, I haven't - you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and I could stare at you and draw you forever and never get bored, Daryl thinks, but he just picks up a copy for himself too.

"Is this all you're getting?" he says and Jesus turns to him.

"You should tell them that you draw this," he says, holding up the comic and indicating the comic store guys.

Daryl shakes his head. "No, Jesus, we went through this last time - "

"Why the hell not? You're so good, Daryl. They'd be stoked. Why do you hide all the time?"

Daryl glances at the counter, but the comic store guys are still hunched over the invoices, not noticing their hushed exchange.

"Because I don't want to make a big thing about it. It's nothing special and I just don't want to make myself out to be a...an egomaniac or something," Daryl says, a frown crossing his face.

"You're the last person in the world to ever come across as an egomaniac but fine," Jesus says and lets out an exasperated breath as he waits for Daryl to pick up some more comics, before they head over to the counter.

The big guy with the deep voice looks up and smiles. "Back for more, huh?" he says, indicating the comic in Jesus's hand.

Jesus gives him a smile. "It's really good." He glances at Daryl but he just takes Jesus's copy of the comic and adds it to his pile, not looking at him.

"I'll pay for these altogether."

They stand in silence for a moment while the big guy rings up Daryl's comics, Daryl looking absently at a display of Munnys on the counter.

Jesus suddenly points at Daryl and says, "He's Daryl Dixon."

Daryl looks at Jesus, horrified, heat rising up his neck. "Jesus!"

The two guys look up at Daryl. The small one with the lisp frowns. "No, he's not. He comes in here all the time." He takes his phone out of his back pocket and starts to look for something.

Jesus folds his arms. "He's Daryl Dixon." He looks at Daryl, giving him a little smirk while Daryl gets redder, looking back at Jesus like he wants to kill him.

The big guy gives Daryl a look. "Are you really Daryl Dixon?"

Daryl looks down and nods.

"Holy shit, he is!" The small guy shows something on his phone to the big guy. "He's on Michonne Grimes's Tumblr!"

The big guy looks up at Daryl. "Dude, why didn't you say something? You've been coming in here like forever."

Daryl just mumbles something inaudible, wanting to hide.

"He's too modest for his own good," Jesus says, pulling Daryl in with his arm, Daryl trying to squirm away from him.

"You have to do a signing for us - your work is amazing," the little guy says. "Would you sign a few variant covers of Winter Soldier for us now? People will go nuts if they're signed by you." They both look at Daryl expectantly.

Daryl just nods, still not saying anything and the big guy reaches up to pluck some comics off of a display on the wall above the counter.

"I can't believe this," the little guy says as Daryl signs them on the cover.

"Thanks so much," the big guy says, beaming at Daryl. "Hey, can we email you about maybe doing a proper signing? We have all of your books and we take good care of any artists we get in."

"Free coffee and donuts..." the small guy says with a smile.

"I...I'll think about it..." Daryl manages, his mouth feeling dry and tasting slightly bitter.

Jesus grabs the Sharpie Daryl had been using. "Here, I'll write down his email address." He scribbles on a scrap of paper and hands it over, looking at Daryl who will not meet anyone's eyes, his face red and blotchy.

The comic store guys chatter excitedly to each other as Daryl and Jesus leave, Jesus waving to them. Daryl storms off down the street, clutching his messenger bag tightly, jaw clenched. Jesus runs to catch up with him.

"Daryl..."

"Why the hell did you do that?" Daryl says angrily. "I told you I didn't want to say anything. It wasn't funny."

"It wasn't meant to be funny...Daryl, just stop for a second...Daryl!" Jesus grabs him and pulls him into the doorway of a Laundromat that closed down months ago.

"I told them because you're so fucking modest all the time; you never take enough credit for anything you do and you're so talented and decent, you deserve to have people look at you and realise how...how amazing you are."

Daryl looks down at the ground and starts to protest, but Jesus grabs his shoulders and makes him look up, his grey-blue eyes bright and soulful.

"No Daryl, listen. If it wasn't for you, I could easily have turned out just like Abraham Ford, hiding myself away and not talking to anyone and becoming this festering person blaming myself for getting someone killed..." he swallows hard and lowers his arms. "The day we met, it took every ounce of courage I had to come up to your place that evening. I thought...I thought your offer was just you being polite but then you were just like...this amazing person who actually WANTED to be my friend and I couldn't quite believe it. It would have been so easy for me not to go and just lock myself away in my apartment but I did and it was the best decision I ever made in my life. Just...you have to start giving a damn about yourself because you're fucking worth it, okay?"

Daryl just stands still, unable to move.

Jesus finally looks away, not sure what to do with himself after this admission. He looks down and folds his arms. "That's why I told them."

Tell him, Daryl says to himself. Just tell him how you feel about him, tell him now. But he can't say anything other than, "oh," in a small voice.

"I've never had a friend like you before," Jesus says quietly.

Daryl nods down at the floor. "Me too," he says.

They stand in an awkward silence and Daryl looks at the ground, at his bag, anywhere but at Jesus because if he does, Jesus will know in a second how Daryl feels about him. He also doesn't want to see how Jesus is looking at him, because all of a sudden, he doesn't quite know how he'll handle it if Jesus is looking back at him in the Spencere way, insecurities he thought he'd maybe laid to rest creeping into his mind like poisonous tendrils.

Jesus finally moves. "Come on, let's go home and get lunch."

Daryl follows him out of the doorway and they start walking.

"You know, I'll come with you if you do a signing," Jesus says carefully to Daryl. "I wasn't just going to leave you to do it all by yourself after outing you like that."

Daryl twists his bag strap in his hands. "I'll think about it. I really will."

 

Jesus goes to another VA meeting with Abraham, the scenario playing out the Spencere as last week - Abraham stalks off, Jesus follows, they come back, Abraham slamming his door without a word. Jesus doesn't talk much about the meeting, only to say that he'd actually introduced himself and told everyone he'd lost an arm. The next two meetings he keeps to himself.

The comic store incident has pretty much gone unspoken between them for the last couple of weeks although it's all Daryl can think about, especially Jesus's declaration, which Daryl wants to mention because it was the best thing anyone's ever said about him, but he doesn't know how to bring it up. Jesus just returned to being a goof as soon as they got back and Daryl just went with it, pushing his emotions aside and wondering what it all meant, just becoming more confused and self-doubting the more he thinks about everything.

Daryl is talking to Michonne one morning while Jesus is at one of his sessions with Carol. Vision-Con is creeping closer and Michonne wants to collaborate with Daryl on a new print.

"I was thinking something epic..." Michonne muses.

"Define epic," Daryl says, flipping through an earlier issue of Winter Soldier for a character he's forgotten how to draw. "We don't have that long to get something done. What is it, like two and a half weeks away?" Daryl tries to push down the knot of pre-con anxiety he's starting to develop.

Michonne makes a humming noise. "Maybe not really epic but a few choice iconic sci-fi characters? Like, we could have Predator, Christopher Johnson from District 9, The Iron Giant, the T-800 Endoskeleton, whatever you wanted. I know it's not totally original but I think if you drew them and I pulled out all the stops on some digital painting, it could be really cool."

Daryl likes the idea. "Yeah, I could be persuaded. It would go pretty well with my Icons Of Horror prints. I can do some thumbnails this evening?"

"Awesome! Lori can print them and we can split the takings, if that's okay?"

"Sounds good to me." Daryl looks up as Jesus walks through the door, slightly earlier than he thought he'd be. Daryl gave him his key this morning because he was thinking about going to go out to the art store and wanted Jesus to be able to come in and work on his pages if he was out. He gives Jesus a little wave. Jesus sees that Daryl is on Skype and quietly puts his things down, sliding into his chair.

"Uh, I have to go Michonne. Jesus's here and I have to show him how to - "

Michonne pounces. "He's there right now? Well, how rude of you, Daryl, to not properly introduce us." She's loving this. "Hey there," she calls slightly louder. Daryl cringes inside. He quickly and surreptitiously taps out a message to her.

captain_Dixon: PLEASE DO NOT EMBARRASS ME I BEG YOU

black_widow: cEspinosa out

Jesus looks at Daryl with a nervous smile. "Hi. You're Michonne, right?"

"Yes, I am. I can't believe that Daryl has left it so long to get us to meet, kind of. It's nice to finally put a voice to the comic book character."

Jesus gives a little laugh. "Yeah, nice to meet you too. I've heard a ton about you and Rick."

"All terrible and highly incrimiMichonneing, I hope."

"No, all very nice and laden with praise. Sorry."

Daryl gives a little smile.

Michonne makes a disappointed noise. "Well, we get to finally meet you in person in a couple of weeks so I guess we'll have to change that. Hey, you may even get to see Daryl drunk out of his - "

"Yeah, no, we won't. Captain Dixon is sitting this one out," Daryl cuts in quickly. "I'll speak to you tomorrow, Michonne," he enunciates firmly.

He can hear Michonne smiling. "Yeah, no pEugenelem. It was great to talk to you however briefly, Jesus," she says.

Jesus gives Daryl an encouraging little smile. "Yeah, you too. I can't wait to meet you guys."

Daryl hangs up quickly and gives Jesus a little grin. "And that was Michonne."

Jesus pulls his therapy paperwork out of his backpack and puts it all on the desk, his journal on top. "She sounded really cool. I feel slightly less nervous about meeting her now. Slightly."

A message pings through from Michonne.

black_widow: He sounds amazing :)

Daryl stifles a grin.

"You'll be fine. Honestly, she's a total nerd and the coolest person. Rick is just like this funny doofus who acts dumb most of the time but is actually really smart and just doesn't want anyone to know. Glenn is awesome too. He's really laid back. Although once at a con, he went totally berserk at this one guy who kept trying to provoke him into this weird fight and he literally flipped over his own table, like literally, and scared the guy off. You'll like him."

Jesus gives Daryl a look. "Until I say something wrong and he flips a table at me."

"You'll be fine. They all can't wait to meet you."

Jesus holds his journal in his hands, curling the pages. "This is kind of a big deal for me. I...uh...you and Carol are really the only two people I know and talk to for more than five minutes at any given time."

Daryl feels a little pang in his chest. "They'll like you. They really will. Just be as much of a dick as you are around me and you'll all get on fine." He dodges a wadded up ball of paper with a little laugh.

Jesus sits for a few minutes, looking at a page in his journal. "I've got another appointment tomorrow morning so I might be over a little later." He looks a bit nervous as he speaks.

"Is it CBT?" Daryl asks, trying to mask his concern.

"Uh, no. Just something else on my Positive Life Changes list. It's kind of...I'm kind of nervous about it."

"Is it anything I can help with?" Daryl asks and Jesus smiles at him.

"No, it's just something that's been a long time coming...it's kind of stupid but..." he gives a shrug. "We'll see how it goes tomorrow."

Daryl indicates his journal. "So, how are the Positive Life Changes coming along?"

Jesus chews the inside of his cheek. "They're getting somewhere. Some are harder to approach than others. There's a pretty big one I'm struggling with that kind of...scares me more than the rest." He looks down at a page, his face unreadable. He finally looks back up at Daryl. "It's a good kind of scary though."

"I think the things worth doing always are. Kind of scary, I mean," Daryl says, resting his chin on his hand.

Jesus nods slowly. "Yeah, you got that right," he says quietly, more to himself than to Daryl. He puts his journal down. "So are we doing this layout tutorial or what?"

 

***

 

Jesus wants to make meatloaf for dinner, insisting on doing it all by himself because Daryl cooks for the both of them nearly all the time they aren't out getting noodles. Not that Daryl minds - he's always enjoyed cooking for himself and enjoys cooking for Jesus even more, especially since Jesus seems to love everything he makes. Daryl listens from his desk as Jesus clatters around in his kitchen, trying his best not to get up and peer in. He hears a few muffled grunts and a howl of dismay at one point.

"Need any help?" he calls.

"No! I can do this. It's just a fucking meatloaf, it shouldn't be this hard!"

Daryl gets back to working on some thumbnails for the sci-fi print and soon he hears the oven door open and close and the sound of running water as Jesus cleans up. He comes out of the kitchen ten minutes later, a line of worry between his eyes, hair slightly dishevelled.

"I think I fucked it all up," he says and stalks over to the couch. "I hate cooking."

"Well, no matter how it turns out, I appreciate the thought," Daryl says and stands up stretching.

Jesus grunts and fiddles with his hair. Daryl comes over to the couch and leans over the back, looking at Jesus solemnly.

"Even when I'm in the Emergency Room having my stomach pumped, I'll still appreciate the thought."

Jesus gives an incensed cry and pulls Daryl down where he crumples laughing, head next to Jesus's knees, legs dangling over the back of the couch. He looks up at Jesus.

"It smells pretty good. Don't worry about it, it's just meatloaf."

Jesus looks deflated. "I just wanted to make one thing that wasn't either completely contamiMichonneed with garlic or burnt on the outside and raw in the middle."

Daryl knocks Jesus's shoulder with his knee. Jesus smiles down at him and Daryl feels an overwhelming sense of contentment and he forgets himself for a moment, gazing back at Jesus maybe a little too adoringly. Jesus reaches down and plucks Daryl's glasses off, putting them on and squinting at him.

"You look good in glasses," Daryl says with a hazy smile.

Jesus smirks. "Do I look smart?"

Daryl swings his legs down from the back of the couch and sits up. "Yeah, about as smart as I look in them." He reaches for his glasses as Jesus takes them off.

"Wait a sec," Jesus says before Daryl puts them back on. "I've never actually really seen you without your glasses on before. Not for longer than like two seconds."

Daryl turns his glasses around in his hands. "There's not really that much to see," he says, feeling self-conscious.

Jesus is looking at him, his grey-blue eyes flitting across Daryl's face and Daryl's eyes wander down to Jesus's lips for a second and everything's a bit blurry. Daryl shifts nervously, feeling more exposed than if he were actually sat stark naked on the couch.

"Can I put my glasses back on now?" Daryl finally asks, his voice a bit more breathy than he wants it to be.

Jesus lets his hair fall in front of his face. "Yeah," he says softly and the oven timer goes off.

 

***

 

The meatloaf is good. In fact, it's really good and Daryl warns Jesus that this may need to become a regular thing now.

"This is better than the one my Peletier mom used to make and hers was incredible," Daryl says, reaching over to the coffee table for another piece from the dish.

"Really? You're not just saying that?" Jesus asks.

Daryl shakes his head. "It's really good," he says, taking another mouthful and Jesus beams.

After dinner, Jesus plays Borderlands while Daryl sits next to him on the couch and starts on the sci-fi print pencils, him and Michonne having decided from the thumbnails to go for Predator, The Iron Giant, the exosuit from District 9, the T-800 endoskeleton, EugeneoCop and Pris from Blade Runner. After a couple of hours of sketching, Daryl puts his drawing materials aside and just sits, curled on the couch, watching Jesus play. He can feel his eyes getting heavy, the noise and music from the game becoming muffled and he finally drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes up, the PS3 is turned off and he's leaning against Jesus who has an arm around him. Daryl looks up at him sleepily.

Jesus gives him an amused smile. "Hello," he says softly.

Daryl smiles back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. What time is it?" He can't quite bring himself to move.

"It's pretty late," Jesus says, still looking down at him. He brings up his other hand and gently brushes his fingers through Daryl's hair. "Your hair's all smooshed."

Daryl swallows hard, trying to keep his voice even. "Your appointment...you'll be tired..."

Jesus looks at Daryl for a moment longer, then unfurls his arm. Daryl sits up.

"Yeah," Jesus says finally, "I guess I should head back. Can I come up here afterwards?"

"You don't even have to ask."

 

***

 

Daryl feels slightly groggy in the morning and taps out an email to Spencer, who he'll finally get to meet in person at Vision-Con. Negan has been late delivering the next comic script and while Daryl thinks he can still hit the deadline when it comes in, he might need an extra day or two just to give Michonne a clear window to hit her deadline too. Spencer replies almost straight away saying that it's fine and that he's looking forward to meeting Daryl and Michonne too.

He sits back in his chair, chewing his nails. He can't stop thinking about the way Jesus was looking at him last night. Does he feel the Spencere way? If Daryl had leaned up to kiss him, would he have kissed back? Daryl wishes he didn't keep hesitating to act on his instincts but he's so scared that he'll do something and Jesus won't react in the way that he hopes he will and everything will be screwed. Daryl rubs his eyes and lets out a long sigh. He picks up his fine liner and starts to ink the sci-fi print.

At 11:30am, Jesus knocks on the door, his usual three short taps and Daryl gets up to answer. He opens the door, about to ask Jesus if he wants to go to Central Park later but the question lodges in his throat when he sees him and all Daryl can do is gawp.

Jesus's hair is short, parted at the side and swept up slightly, no longer falling in his face. His eyes stand out, piercing and huge without his usual brown curtain to hide behind. He's wearing the red-checked shirt and white t-shirt from the day he'd met Daryl after he got back from Chicago, standing slightly awkwardly in the hall, nervous. Daryl can only blink a few times. He looks...he looks incredible.

Jesus runs his hand through his hair, obviously unused to not having more to touch. "You're not saying anything..." he says, his voice laced with worry.

Daryl finally catches himself. "You look...you look so...different," he breathes.

Jesus swallows. "Different good or different bad?" He looks at Daryl in anticipation.

Daryl can't seem to move, trying his best to tear his eyes away from Jesus and failing spectacularly. "Good...different good..."

Jesus finally smiles, relieved. "It feels really weird."

Daryl steps aside and Jesus comes in, playing with the front of his hair, rubbing the sides of his face. "I feel so exposed."

Daryl puts his hands in his pockets and gives Jesus a grin, unable to take his eyes off of him. "So this was the big appointment?"

Jesus rolls his eyes and gives an embarrassed laugh. "I know, it's just a stupid haircut. But I thought...I'm starting to feel like...a different person...better...and I just thought a change might..."

Daryl can't help but smile wider and he steps forward, making himself move, and very lightly brushes his fingers up through the front of Jesus's hair, adjusting a short lock that has fallen out of place. Jesus watches him, eyes glittering.

"That's better," Daryl says and takes a small step back. "You look...you look great."

Jesus's face breaks into a huge smile, slightly shy around the edges. He flits his eyes away from Daryl. "Thanks," he says and runs his hand through his hair again.

Daryl mock frowns. "Although you do realise that you've now totally screwed up the continuity of your comic book character..."

 

***

 

Daryl starts to get ready for Vision-Con which is now less than a week away - updating his portfolio, adding original pages to sell, sorting out new prints, while Jesus watches YouTube Photoshop tutorials, teaching himself whatever he can find. He had to tell Abraham that he won't be able to make next week's VA meeting and was just met with a grunt and a slammed door.

"He was fine about it," Jesus tells Daryl when he asks how Abraham responded.

Daryl didn't think Jesus could get any more attractive but his short hair is driving Daryl crazy, to the point where he's finding it difficult to concentrate on anything when Jesus's at his place, which is almost all of the time.

They're sat at their desks one afternoon, Jesus concentrating on his laptop screen, a slight frown on his face, absorbed in what he's doing and Daryl has been throwing furtive looks at him for the last hour. He lets his eyes linger a bit too long at one point, losing himself in the amazing flowing line of Jesus's jaw and neck, when Jesus, without looking up from his work says, "You're staring again."

Daryl jumps and his face flashes red; he thought he'd been pretty inconspicuous about everything this whole time but obviously not. He hurries to pick up his pencil which he immediately drops (of course) and it skits across his desk. He ducks his head, embarrassed beyond belief, pretending to be interested in something on his computer. When he brings himself to glance back up, once the colour in his cheeks has cooled down somewhat, Jesus is just smiling a pleased little smile.

 

***

 

"Oh my god, I'm so fucking excited I could shit myself right now," Michonne squeals and Daryl hears Rick say "please don't" in the background.

Michonne and Rick are flying into New York tomorrow and so is Glenn; the con starts at 1pm on Friday and they all decided to arrive on the Thursday so they could get together for food, drinks and, in Daryl's case, another haircut. Of course, one of the main reasons they all wanted to fly in early was to meet Jesus.

"I can't wait," says Daryl. "Just...Jesus's really nervous about meeting everyone. Don't scare him off, okay?"

"Oh Daryl, he's going to love us and we're going to love him. Don't worry so much. Oh my god, I can't believe I'm going to meet him."

Daryl hears Rick come over to Michonne's laptop. "By the end of this weekend, one of us is winning this bet," he says.

Daryl covers his face. "Please don't do anything. Please..."

Michonne groans. "Daryl, we're kidding - "

"We're totally not kidding." Rick breaks in.

" - we're not going to embarrass you, we're not going to terrify Jesus, everything is going to be awesome, I promise. Did you get your panels? We're on another one with Negan. And get this," Michonne's voice raises an octave, "I'm on one with Rosita Fucking Espinosa. I mean what the fuck? Just because we're both Women In Comics..." Michonne spits out the last part.

"Honey, calm down. That vein on your forehead is getting really big," Rick says, and Daryl winces because there's nothing worse than telling Michonne to calm down.

Daryl hears Michonne suck in a breath and immediately jumps in before things get messy. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" he says hastily.

"Our hotel's a couple of stops from Times Square so we thought you and Jesus could meet the three of us outside of Midtown Comics around 5pm and we can go find a bar or something?" Rick says.

"That sounds great. Michonne, I'll bring your Rhee with me on Friday, okay?"

"Thanks Daryl. Okay, we still need to pack but I cannot wait to see you tomorrow. Both of you."

"Can we look forward to seeing Captain Dixon?" Rick asks expectantly.

"With Jesus there? No fucking way in hell," Daryl says. "You'll get to see Daryl Dixon drinking beer because he's way less uninhibited with that than he is with rum."

Michonne and Rick both make a disappointed noise.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Daryl. Are you sure we can't let Jesus know that you want to suck his - "

Daryl hangs up on Rick before he can finish.

 

***

 

"I'm so nervous. I can't believe how nervous I am." Jesus rubs his hands on his thighs. They're on the subway the next day, heading to Times Square to meet everyone. He pulls at the collar of his shirt and then his jacket.

"I'm really hot. Are you hot?"

Daryl puts a hand on Jesus's shoulder. "It's going to be fine."

Jesus sits back and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, it's just they're really important to you and I don't want to mess anything up..."

Daryl gathers himself. "Jesus, you're really important to me. And they all know that, which is why they want to meet you so badly."

Jesus gives Daryl a look of gratitude and something else that Daryl can't quite figure out. "Okay," he says at last.

They finally reach Times Square and head out of the subway station, the nervous knot in Daryl's stomach going into overdrive. His best friends are going to meet the guy he's completely in love with, and they may or may not (Daryl feels a pang of guilt for not quite trusting them, but then they did slip him doubles of rum without telling him) do something that will totally out him. He glances at Jesus; he's walking slightly stiffly, jaw clenched and Daryl can tell he wishes he had his long hair to hide behind. He can see Midtown Comics up ahead and starts to look around. He finally sees them waiting outside, Michonne pulling on Rick's jacket sleeve and looking annoyed and Glenn laughing at Rick. Daryl can't help the smile that spreads over his face.

"There they are!" He says excitedly to Jesus. Jesus pulls down on his shirt and runs a hand through his hair again. He makes a nervous little noise in his throat, glancing at Daryl.

Michonne sees them and points, shouting out something as she does. Rick and Glenn turn around and both break into huge grins. Daryl gives a wave. Michonne comes sprinting over and throws herself at him, Jesus waiting apprehensively behind them.

"My dork! I'm finally reunited with my dork!" she squeals and Daryl laughs into her shoulder.

"Hey Michonne," he pulls away beaming. "How was your flight?"

She frantically waves a hand at him. "Boring, short, we're here, want booze." She looks over at Jesus and back at Daryl again with an excited smirk. Daryl gives her a look and turns to Jesus.

"Michonne, this is Jesus."

Jesus smiles nervously and steps forward, holding out his right hand. "Hi," he says shyly.

Michonne bats his hand away and grabs him. "I'm not shaking your damn hand, give me a hug." Daryl hears Jesus laugh and he hugs Michonne back. She looks over at Daryl and mouths OH MY GOD to him, her eyes wide. Daryl shoots her a warning look.

Jesus looks less nervous when they pull away. "I know we kind of met already, but it's great to finally meet you for real. Daryl talks about you all the time."

Michonne gives Jesus a raised eyebrow and a knowing grin. "Oh, does he now?" She gives Daryl a little push. Rick and Glenn come over and Michonne wraps an arm around Rick's waist.

"Jesus, this is my dumbass husband, Rick Grimes and this is Glenn Rhee. He's kind of a dumbass too."

Rick shakes Jesus's hand enthusiastically. "It's great to meet you, man. Daryl's told us a ton about you."

Jesus smiles at Rick. "Hi. I, uh, heard you got shot with a crossbow?"

Rick gives an excited smile and looks at Michonne. "I told you! This is The Thing I'm going to be known for. Oh, I'll have to show you my scar. It's AWESOME."

Michonne gives a snort.

Glenn shakes Jesus's hand. "Hey dude, good to meet you. I hear that Daryl is trying to turn you into one of us comic folk, both recreationally and professionally."

Jesus gives a little laugh. "Yeah, I'm actually really enjoying it. Both aspects."

"It's only a matter of time before you'll be getting angry at ret-cons and sidekicks coming back from the dead like the rest of us."

Daryl feels a weight lift from his chest as he watches them all interact, knowing that his friends will make Jesus feel welcome. Jesus looks a lot less stressed now that the actual introductions are over and he gives Daryl a relieved grin.

Glenn points down the street. "I saw a bar somewhere a couple of blocks down that looked pretty good. Everyone okay to head there?"

They all agree and start to head off. Rick and Glenn walk together, arguing animatedly about Pacific Rim.

Michonne steps between Jesus and Daryl and links arms with them. Daryl knows she deliberately made sure that Jesus was on her left and he doesn't have to remind himself why he loves her so much.

"Come on, boys. I don't know about the two of you, but I want beer and I want it now."

They start walking and Jesus looks over at Daryl, a stupidly delighted smile on his face. Daryl smiles back at him, feeling like he couldn't be any happier than he is at this moment and suddenly makes a promise to himself: That he'll tell Jesus Rovia how he feels about him before the end of the weekend.


	9. Chapter 9

They all stumble into the bar, Rick and Glenn still arguing, Michonne and Jesus talking easily about how Jesus is doing working in Photoshop. Daryl brings up the rear of the group alone, but for the first time in his life, he doesn't feel left out. He's still letting himself bask in the warmth of seeing Jesus with his best friends. As they head to a table, Rick turns to Michonne to ask her something and Jesus looks around for Daryl. He gives him a little smile.

"Everything okay?"

Daryl nods and smiles back. "Yeah, everything's great."

Jesus walks closer to Daryl and touches gently him on the arm. "I'm really glad I'm here."

Daryl takes a moment to just look at Jesus, eyes completely focused on him, wanting Jesus to know how he feels, not quite ready yet to vocalise it, but allowing himself to let his guard down, even just a little bit.

"I'm really glad you're here too." His voice is husky. Jesus's mouth twitches slightly and his hand tightens on Daryl's arm.

"Hey, we got a table," Rick calls over to them and they both turn to look at him. "Come on."

They make their way through the bar to a booth. Rick slides in next to Glenn and crushes him against the wall. Glenn lets out a big "oof" and elbows Rick in the side. Michonne pulls Daryl down onto the seat next to her. Jesus stands next to the table and rubs the back of his neck.

"Um, I'd like to get everyone a drink, just to say thanks. For uh...you know." He goes slightly pink and Daryl's heart fills.

"Aw dude, that's so cool," Glenn says sincerely. Michonne gives Jesus a big smile.

Rick stands back up and slaps Jesus on the back. "I'll come with you, man. Thanks."

Jesus smiles and nods. They all call out various drinks and Rick walks with Jesus to the bar.

As soon as they're out of earshot, Michonne and Glenn pounce on Daryl both talking at the Spencere time - asking if Daryl's said anything to Jesus, how good they look together, what the fuck is going on between them - babbling heatedly.

Daryl holds up his hands, pressing himself into the back of the booth's leather seat and glances around to make sure Jesus and Rick are far away enough not to hear anything. "God, calm down! Just give me a chance to - "

Michonne holds a hand up to Daryl's face. "No no no. Daryl, please tell me you're going to say something to him soon because, honestly? I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a goddamn chainsaw."

Glenn leans over and gives Daryl a nod and a grin. "Dude, honestly? It's so obvious. He's totally into you."

Daryl sits up. "I'm going to tell him this weekend, okay? I've...I've made my mind up. I have to tell him. Just let me do it on my own when the time is right..."

Michonne punches him in the arm. "You'd better. I mean it." She holds her hands out in front of her like she's holding something inexplicable and can't quite believe it. "Oh my fucking god, Daryl - how has this gone on for so long?!"

"Hey, it's not that simple - "

Glenn shakes his head. "Daryl, really, if you couldn't see how OBVIOUS it is - "

Daryl balls his hands into frustrated fists. "It's so not as easy as you guys think it is. It's been really...it's..."

Michonne grabs him and drags his head to her chest. "Oh, my sweet, poor Daryl..." he desperately struggles to get his face away from Michonne's boobs. "You're such an idiot."

Rick and Jesus come back with the drinks. "I leave the table for five minutes..." Rick mutters looking down at them and Daryl wrenches himself free of Michonne, face glowing pink. Jesus is laughing as he slides into the seat next to Daryl and hands him a beer.

"Yeah, great pep talk," Daryl says to Michonne and Glenn as he straightens his glasses.

Rick puts a tray of shots down on the table. "I thought we needed shots."

Glenn makes a face. "Jagermeister? Really, Rick?"

Rick plants a hand on Glenn's face and dishes out the shots. "Look, I think we should have a toast. We're in New York, we're all going to a comic convention and we have to initiate our new friend, Jesus..." he slides an extra shot over to Jesus who groans,"...into our happy little comic book family. Come on, one...two...three..."

They all down their shots and make disapproving noises, Glenn immediately trying to get rid of the taste by downing his beer too.

"Holy crap, that's awful..." Daryl makes a face.

Rick points at Jesus's extra shot and starts to slam his palms on the table. "Come on, Jesus..." he goads.

Jesus picks up his other shot and throws it back, grimacing as he puts the glass down. Rick, Michonne and Glenn cheer and Daryl shakes his head.

"Don't let him bully you into drinking any more shots," Daryl says to Jesus. "And also, you're meant to be cutting my hair later so don't get too shit-faced," he points to Rick.

Rick waves his hand. "I could cut your hair and make it perfect if I was blind-folded AND shit-faced."

They all order burgers and more beer and Jesus starts to open up, laughing along with everyone, telling funny stories from his childhood. Daryl tries not to watch him too much as he talks about a trip to Coney Island that ended in disaster which everyone is getting into but he looks so happy and carefree that he can't not. Daryl turns back to his fries and catches Glenn giving him a total asshole grin, raising his eyebrows a couple of times and then fluttering his eyelids. Daryl gives him a dirty look.

Michonne leans across the table when she finishes her burger. "Hey Jesus, did Daryl ever tell you the story about the Soda Crotch Incident?"

"No, don't!" Daryl cries.

Jesus snorts and ignores Daryl's protests. "No, he hasn't."

Daryl buries his face in his arms.

Michonne puts a hand on Daryl's back and talks across him to Jesus. "We were at this convention in Dallas and Daryl had a panel. So he decides like five minutes before going up to have a can of soda and -"

"Rick shook it up!" Daryl cries not raising his head.

"I didn't shake it up and I maintain to this day that I didn't," Rick says but looks at Jesus and mouths I Shook It Up.

"So the can exploded in Daryl's hand when he opened it and went all over his crotch and he had no time to do anything about it - "

Rick and Glenn start to snigger. "It was so fucking funny," Glenn snorts, "we actually covered over our tables and lost out on print sales to go and watch the panel - "

" - and he had to go and talk about breaking into the industry with a sticky wet crotch for like an hour..." Michonne rubs her hand in circles across Daryl's back.

Daryl sits back on the seat, his face unsmiling, throwing Jesus an un-amused look as he laughs in uncontrollable barks. "It was not funny at all. I felt like a total moron."

"The best bit was when you had to walk across the stage with both hands covering the front of your jeans. You looked like a sex pest," Rick adds and Jesus breaks down again. Michonne throws her head back shrieking.

Daryl just shakes his head. "You were all so helpful that day. Thanks again for that."

Jesus wipes his eyes. "Oh Daryl, that's amazing." He gives Daryl a little nudge. Daryl finally smiles, rolling his eyes.

They talk about the time Rick passed out under Michonne's table at a con in Boston when he decided to smuggle vodka in a water bottle and ended up drinking the whole thing himself. Daryl brings up Glenn's table flipping episode and Glenn laughs and takes a swig of beer.

"Did I tell you guys that Maggie made me go to an anger management councillor after that whole thing? It was so blown up out of all proportion."

Daryl stands up. "I'm getting more beer, who wants some?" They all raise their hands.

Michonne stands up too. "I'll help you, Dork. Come on." They shuffle out of the booth and head to the bar.

Daryl orders and turns to Michonne. "I can't believe you bought that soda story up..."

Michonne leans on the bar and tosses her hair back. "Hey, at least now Jesus's thinking about your crotch." She smirks and kicks him gently.

"I knew I couldn't trust you guys..."

"Oh, cEspinosa out. We're only telling him because we want him to feel included and anyway, we all really like him." Michonne leans in close, shoulder to shoulder with him. "But seriously, he's really awesome. I can see what all the fuss is about now."

Daryl smiles down at the bar. "He's...he's amazing." He looks back over to the table and Jesus, Glenn and Rick are all laughing hysterically at something.

"Please tell him how you feel," Michonne says quietly to him, looking at him earnestly. "I'm more than 100% sure that he feels the Spencere way."

Daryl lets out a breath. "I really hope so..."

"Daryl, the way he looks at you..." She shakes her head. "Trust me, he does."

Daryl swallows. "I'll tell him. When the time is right."

They take the beers back to the table and Rick suggests going back to their hotel after this round.

"We can pick up a few six packs, I can cut Daryl's hair..."

Everyone is buzzed enough to not care what they do afterwards. They finish up their beers and head out. Daryl, Rick and Jesus go to the bathroom and Daryl threatens to get his own back on Rick for the Soda Crotch Incident, which he knows he did on purpose no matter what he says, by dousing him in toilet water. Rick just zips himself back up and stands, legs wide apart, telling Daryl to do his worst.

"It's not much fun if you want it to happen," Daryl grumbles.

Rick is about to say something else when Jesus, who has been washing up at the basin, throws water from his cupped hands at Rick's crotch, Rick shrieking as it hits him. Daryl laughs in delight and Jesus stifles a laugh and gives Rick an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry but I had the sudden urge to defend Daryl's honour," his cheeks are red from the beer and shots and he giggles. Daryl smiles wider and Rick just narrows his eyes at him.

"That's the last time I ever buy you shots, man."

Daryl sniggers and pulls Jesus out of the bathroom, feeling a rush from the beer he's had himself and from the fact that Jesus actually did what he just did...for him. They both emerge from the bar laughing, Michonne and Glenn waiting outside for everyone.

"What's so funny?" Michonne asks with a grin.

"You'll see," Daryl says.

Rick comes out of the bar a couple of minutes later with a big wet patch still on the front of his jeans. Glenn points and laughs and Michonne just shakes her head.

"Can't you go five minutes without making a mess of yourself?"

Rick points at Jesus. "Well, that was a fun walk though a crowded bar. Can you believe that he did this? I've only known him for three hours."

Jesus offers to daub Rick dry with a napkin from the bar and Daryl doubles over laughing on the sidewalk. Rick shakes his head but smiles and starts to walk with Glenn down the street.

Michonne follows and runs ahead of them, snapping pictures of Rick's crotch on her phone. Daryl and Jesus walk after them.

"I don't think I should have done that," Jesus says to Daryl with worried grin. "You don't think he's - "

Daryl shakes his head. "Rick likes any excuse to make a big thing about his crotch - I wouldn't worry about it."

Up ahead, Michonne is trying to take a picture of Rick and Glenn jumping in mid-air together.

"Thank you for defending my honour," Daryl says to Jesus, giving him an appreciative smile.

Jesus grins back at him. "Any time."

 

***

 

They catch the subway a couple of stops to Michonne, Rick and Glenn's hotel, stopping at a convenience store along the way for a few six packs of beer. Rick's damp crotch apparently forgotten, he talks with Jesus the rest of the way to the hotel and they look as though they're actually hitting it off pretty well. They all squeeze into the elevator and head up to Michonne and Rick's room, Rick threatening to fart all the way up as everyone else protests loudly.

Rick drags Daryl into the bathroom. "Come on, the sooner I cut your hair, the sooner I can get really drunk." Daryl glances back into the room as Rick starts gathering towels and his scissors; Jesus and Michonne are sat on the bed with a pad of post-it notes while Glenn is trying to open a bottle of beer on the edge of the beside table. Rick grabs Daryl by the collar and drags him over to the already running shower, barely giving Daryl a chance to take off his glasses.

"Under you go, Dixon," he shoves Daryl under the spray. Daryl can hear Jesus laughing in the bedroom. He's never going to get fed up of that sound.

 

***

 

Halfway through Daryl's haircut, Michonne comes into the bathroom flipping through her phone. Jesus and Glenn are talking over each other loudly in the other room, Glenn sounding more and more slurred.

"What are you guys doing in there?" Rick asks as he cuts around Daryl's ear, Daryl mewls a warning as he gets too close to actual flesh.

"We're playing Who Am I - hurry up so you can come and play with us." She hugs her phone to her chest and squats down in front of Daryl, lowering her voice, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Okay, now if there was any doubt what-so-ever, I give you exhibit A." Michonne holds her phone up for Daryl to see and Daryl takes it. It's a photo of Rick and Glenn jumping in mid-air on the street, Rick's wet crotch even more pronounced by the flash of Michonne's camera. Daryl looks up at her in confusion.

"About what, Rick looking like he got way too excited and blew his wad?"

"And what a wad!" Rick announces.

Michonne groans and sMichonneches her phone back from Daryl. She mutters as she zooms in on something and thrusts the phone back into Daryl's face. Daryl and Jesus are walking a few feet behind Rick and Glenn, enough that they're visible in the picture, both turned towards each other. Daryl is looking at Jesus with such a look of love-struck adoration that it's so obvious how he feels about Jesus and he suddenly panics, even though he's resolved to tell Jesus as much as soon as he thinks he can. But then he looks at Jesus in the photo...and he's looking back at Daryl in exactly the Spencere way, a look of complete infatuation on his face. Daryl can only stare for a moment before finally looking up at Michonne whose I-Told-You-So-You-Idiot smile is turned up to eleven.

"I, uh, I'm..."

She stands up and pats him on the cheek. "I'll send you a copy." She kisses Rick on top of the head and saunters back into the bedroom. Daryl hears Jesus shout to Michonne, "Tell Glenn that Engelbert Humperdinck is a real person, he doesn't believe me!"

There's a beat of silence in the bathroom and then Rick starts to chant quietly, "Daryl And Jesus Sitting In A Tree..."

"Rick..." Daryl growls.

"...J-E-R-K-I-N-G O-F-F!"

"RICK!"

 

***

 

Rick finally finishes and Daryl thanks him, getting a wet kiss on the forehead in return, not bothering to use any gel on his hair. He follows Rick back into the bedroom, taking a beer from Glenn as he holds one up. Jesus smiles at Daryl as he sits down next to him, flushed with laughter and beer, a post-it note with Ben Affleck written on it stuck to his forehead. He pats Daryl's hair.

"It looks good," he tells Daryl.

"Having a nice time?" Daryl asks and Jesus nods, grinning goofily at him and Daryl can feel the warmth of his leg against him.

Michonne slaps a post-it on Daryl's head and Jesus laughs when he reads it.

Rick squeezes onto the bed next to Jesus, already two-thirds of a way through a bottle of beer. "Let's do this thing!"

Glenn sticks a note to Rick's head - he's Hulk Hogan. Rick scribbles one out for Michonne and presses it to her head.

"Okay, Michonne. You first," Glenn says, shuffling to the end of the bed to sit with her, his own post-it with Ivan Drago scrawled on it in Jesus's handwriting, stuck at a wonky angle.

"Am I Hitler?" she asks straight away and Rick howls.

"How did you get that so fast?"

Michonne screws up the post-it and throws it at him. "Because I can read you like a crap book."

They all play and drink, Jesus unable to get Ben Affleck and screwing his face up when he finally gives up and reads it. Daryl can't guess his either, slightly distracted by being pressed so close to Jesus, protesting loudly when he discovers that he's Ed Gein. Jesus puts his arm around Daryl's shoulder and says that HE knows that Daryl isn't a serial killer. Michonne snaps a photo and gives Daryl a huge smirk.

Rick suddenly sits forward, slopping his fifth beer onto the bed cover. "My scar! I need to show you all my crossbow scar." He stands up on the bed, having to lean against the wall as he undoes his belt. Glenn and Michonne cry out and Jesus, who is sat next to Rick, looks up in horror.

Rick pulls his jeans down and grabs for Jesus's hand. Jesus starts to wail in protest. He scrambles over Daryl, trying to get away and Rick shuffles along and grabs Daryl's hand instead, bringing it up to the shiny, puckered scar on his thigh, inches away from his underwear. Daryl shrieks, his face way too close to Rick's crotch for comfort. He turns his head away and Jesus and Glenn laugh hysterically, clutching at each other. Michonne snaps a few photos, her own laughter hoarse and breathy.

"Oh my god, Rick no! I can see the outline of your junk!" Daryl shouts and tries to wrench his hand away from Rick's thigh.

Jesus and Glenn laugh even harder. Michonne snaps another photo then shuffles across the bed and grabs Rick's jeans, pulling them up and Daryl scrabbles over to Jesus and Glenn, wiping his hand on Glenn's shirt and making him scream as if his hand was actually covered in something.

"Oh hello," Rick says and smiles down at Michonne.

"I think you've had enough, honey," Michonne says and does Rick's belt back up. Rick sways as she does, his eyes blinking heavily.

Glenn rolls off of the bed onto the floor and crawls over to the bathroom.

Daryl turns to Jesus. "I guess we'd better head off; it'll take us about forty-five minutes to get back."

Jesus nods and stands up, giggling as he staggers back a step. "Yeah, I guess."

Rick slumps down onto the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Michonne, who even when drunk, manages to maintain a solid exterior, walks Jesus and Daryl to the door.

"We'll meet you at 10:30am outside the convention centre, okay?"

Daryl nods and hugs her. She grabs Jesus by his jacket and pulls him over too. "You boys are so awesome."

Jesus makes an "aw" sound and hugs her tight.

They pull away when they hear Glenn starting to throw up in the bathroom.

Michonne closes her eyes and groans. "Great, that's my night sorted. Give me a text when you get home, okay?"

"Will do," Daryl says and pulls Jesus down the hallway. Jesus waves to Michonne all the way down the corridor and around the corner.

 

***

They're still kind of drunk on the train ride home, giggling madly to each other over stupid things, constantly grabbing at each other. Daryl lets himself touch and be touched but knows, no matter how drunk he is, that he won't say anything to Jesus now; he doesn't want to be wasted when he finally tells him.

They make it back to the apartment building and creep up the stairs to Jesus's place, stifling snickers and shushing each other when they get too loud. Jesus leans against his door and fumbles with his keys. He opens the door and leans on it swaying.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay getting home?" he asks Daryl, the cutest smile on his face.

Daryl nods and starts to back away towards the stairs, worried that that smile might make him act too impulsively. "I think so. Text me in five minutes to make sure." He trips on the stairs slightly and Jesus laughs from his doorway.

"Come over to mine at 8:30am?" Daryl calls from the stairs.

"As you wish," Jesus replies, mimicking Westley from The Princess Bride.

Daryl gives him a small wave and heads up to his own apartment. As he closes his front door, his phone vibrates.

JESUS: did you get home okat

DARYL: just, i almost got mugged

JESUS: im so wasted

DARYL: drinks lots of water, go bed

JESUS: justdfhe

Daryl gives a little chuckle and heads to the kitchen to drink as much water as he can. His phone vibrates again.

MICHONNE: Ugh, Glenn sprayed puke everywhere except in the fucking toilet

DARYL: crap, where is he

MICHONNE: Asleep in our bath

DARYL: sorry Michonne

MICHONNE: I take it you got home okay?

DARYL: just got in

MICHONNE: Rick is now trying to get all sexy and I'm covered in puke. What a night

Daryl takes a glass of water with him to his bedroom and gets undressed. As he gets into bed, another text comes through from Michonne. Attached is the photo of him and Jesus looking at each other. Daryl smiles and stares at it in the dark until he falls asleep.

 

***

 

He opens the door to a very tired looking Jesus at 8:25am the next morning. His hair looks slightly scruffy but in that deliberately good way that Daryl can never quite manage. He seems to have abandoned wearing hoodies as of late and the blue plaid shirt over the white tee he's wearing makes his eyes look practically glacial. Daryl steps aside and lets him in, rubbing his eye under his glasses.

"Next time, stop me from drinking so much," he begs Daryl, the heel of his hand pressed to his head.

Daryl smiles and bends down to tie up his sneaker, wincing slightly as his own head pounds. "But you were having such a good time."

Jesus leans on Daryl's desk, a content smile breaking out on his face. "It was awesome. Your friends are so cool."

"They're your friends now, too. They like you a lot," Daryl pulls his jacket on and indicates the small pile by the door. He's managed to condense all of his con stuff into two backpacks. They have two roller Rhees to carry and Daryl also has his portfolio.

"That's what we're taking with us. The bags aren't too heavy."

Jesus comes over and slings on one of the backpacks and picks up one of the roller Rhees.

"Let's do it."

Daryl smiles and throws the other backpack over his shoulder. "Feeling ready for your first comic con?"

Jesus nods with a worried little frown. "I think so. I'm excited but I have no idea what to expect really."

"Well, tomorrow especially you'll be pleased that you're behind a table rather than in front of one." Jesus follows Daryl out of the apartment and they head out towards the subway.

The train is busy, Friday morning commuters out in full force and they squeeze themselves into a space near the back of a carriage. Daryl can already spot a few cosplayers in the next carriage over on their way to Vision-Con. He glances at Jesus; he looks tired but also at ease and Daryl can't help but feel excited. They're going to a comic con together and there's every chance that Jesus Rovia feels something for him. Part of him still wants to dismiss the idea, play it safe and ignore all the signs but, and as much as it terrifies him to admit it, the signs are there.

You're going through with it, he tells himself.

 

***

 

Jesus's eyes widen as soon as they get within view of the convention centre, staring in awe at a pretty awesome Big Daddy and Little Sister cosplay posing for photos.

"That is the coolest thing I've ever seen," he says, beaming at Daryl.

Daryl smiles back at him. "Just you wait."

Michonne is bright and cheery when they find the three of them, her ability to absorb alcohol and burn it into nothing but raised eyebrows and pithy remarks enviable to everyone. Rick looks slightly haggard, leaning against the wall and gives them both a tired wave but Glenn is completely out of it, curled on the concrete floor around his con bag.

"Holy crap, is he okay?" Jesus asks, staring down at Glenn.

Michonne shakes her head. "He's fucked."

Glenn moans from the floor.

Daryl gives him a little nudge with his foot. "I didn't even think you had that much to drink."

Glenn looks up at them. "I feel...so bad." He makes a pitiful squeal and buries his face in his bag.

Michonne folds her arms. "Yeah, well I had to clean up your vomit so imagine how bad I feel. Get the hell up and let's get inside."

They collect their passes and make their way to the artist's alley, Jesus looking slightly bewildered by everything as he walks alongside Daryl. "I had no idea it was this big," he mutters.

They find their tables and start to set up, Daryl noting with a sigh that he's next to Negan again. As always, his table is set up but there's no sign of him. Jesus stands aside, slightly unsure of what to do as Daryl and Michonne start to sort out their tables. Rick says something quietly to Michonne and she nods.

"Hey Jesus, want to come and help me get some coffee for everyone?"

Jesus gives Rick a grateful smile. "Yeah. I can actually feel useful doing that."

Rick looks over to Glenn who is in a daze, trying to straighten his table cloth. "Coffee?" he calls.

Glenn nods and mumbles something.

Daryl watches as Jesus and Rick head down the aisle, talking to each other.

Michonne smiles as she unrolls her Rhee. "I think Rick really likes him."

Daryl starts to unpack his prints. "He really enjoyed last night. Thanks for not scaring him away."

Michonne dumps a stack of their new sci-fi prints on Daryl's table and starts to set up her display stand. "I get the feeling that even if we were complete assholes, he'd stick it out for you."

Daryl just grunts.

Rick and Jesus come back with coffee and paper bags full of baked goods, laughing about something. Jesus hands Daryl a latte and a cinnamon roll, biting into one himself. Jesus indicates to Daryl's table.

"Looks really good," he says, a flake of cinnamon roll in the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks," Daryl says. He makes a motion to his mouth. "You've got...uh...something..."

Jesus wipes his mouth and looks back up at Daryl. The flake has somehow moved to his cheek.

"It's over..." Daryl makes a motion again and Jesus rubs the wrong side of his face. Daryl steps forward and brushes it away, his whole body feeling like a shook-up soda can as he touches Jesus's cheek.

"Thanks," Jesus says quietly, the ghost of a smile on his face. Daryl steps back and takes a big mouthful of too-hot coffee, a distraction if ever he needed one.

"Jerk Alert..." Michonne warns and Daryl can see Negan walking down the aisle towards his table, a smirk already crossing his face. Daryl gives a little groan and turns to Jesus.

"I apologise in advance..." he mumbles.

Negan miraculously doesn't start to sing at Daryl this time, just walks up to him and holds out his hand. "Hey, Dixon." As Daryl goes to shake his hand, Negan swipes it away and runs it though his hair.

"Yeah, original," Daryl says with a wry smile.

Negan snorts and holds his hand out again. "Okay, for realsies...I'm going to try my best not to make fun of your hair or your clothes or how you always look like you have a stick shoved way, way up your ass all the time or the way you go bright red over EVERYTHING for this weekend. Only because the last couple of issues of my comic were spectacular and I guess you had a small hand in that..."

Daryl shakes Negan's hand and Negan glances at Jesus. "New buddy?" he asks and Daryl braces himself.

"This is Jesus. Jesus, this is Negan, the guy who writes Winter Soldier."

Jesus takes Negan's hand and shakes. "I really like your writing," he says diplomatically but Daryl can see the wariness in Jesus's eyes. He's heard a lot of stories about Negan.

"Jesus?" Negan asks, his face already breaking into a smile and Daryl sucks in a breath because he knows that Negan is about to make some smart-ass remark about Jesus's name. But then Negan's eyes narrow slightly as he looks at Jesus as if he's trying to figure something out, then a look of recognition crosses his face closely followed by an expression of intense amusement.

He gives Daryl a knowing look and a smug little laugh. "Oh, that's amazing, Dixon. That's really good. Very...subtle."

Daryl gives him a cold stare and Negan holds in a smirk and turns back to Jesus. "It was really great to meet you, Jesus. Very...enlightening." He turns and walks back to his table, sniggering to himself.

Jesus watches Negan leave then looks at Daryl. "That was really confusing."

Daryl just shakes his head. "That's Negan all over."

Daryl is about to step back and give his table the once-over when he's suddenly grabbed from behind in a bear-hug. "Cut the check!"

Daryl smiles and gets turned around by Spencer, Michonne stood behind him with smile on her face. Spencer grabs Daryl's hand with both of his and pumps it up and down enthusiastically.

"So good to finally meet you, man!"

"Spencer, hi!" Daryl says and Michonne comes around and stands next to Jesus.

"I had to come and find you guys now before it goes balls to the wall. I'm sorry that I won't get to be around much this weekend but booth is going to be rammed and yours truly has to be on it the whole time."

Daryl shakes his head. "No pEugenelem. I think we're going to be pretty busy too. You're on the Winter Soldier panel with us on Sunday though, right?"

Spencer smiles. "Hell yes! I cannot wait." He looks at Jesus. "Oh, I'm sorry - Spencer Monroe." He holds out a hand and Jesus shakes it.

"Jesus Rovia. I'm Daryl's friend; just helping him out this weekend."

Spencer gives Jesus a look. "Have we met? You look kind of familiar..."

Michonne puts her arm around Jesus's shoulder. "Think of him with longer hair..."

Spencer thinks for a second and then gives a huge grin. "You based the new character on him?" he asks Daryl. Daryl nods and goes slightly pink.

Spencer laughs and turns to Jesus. "Well, I hope you're prepared - Negan has some dark shit lined up for you in the next story arc!"

Jesus gives a laugh. "I look forward to it."

Spencer gives Daryl a friendly slap on the back and leans in to give Michonne a kiss on the cheek. "Great work, both of you. I'm looking into getting you guys a better page rate each so - " He holds up two sets of crossed fingers. He indicates to Negan. "Well, I guess I'd better go and say hi to him too. See you guys Sunday."

They watch him walk off and Michonne turns to Daryl with a raised eyebrow. "Better page rate, huh? I think he likes us."

Daryl puts an arm around her. "How could he not? We're pretty awesome."

 

***

 

The con opens at 1pm and things already get slightly insane. Daryl is inundated with commissions and his sketch slots fill up quickly. Michonne also gets swamped and when Daryl has a moment to look up, she indicates with wide-eyes that she's already sold eighteen of the sci-fi prints. Jesus is handling things well - sitting next to Daryl and taking the money for his prints so Daryl can work. He was nervous at first but seems to have settled into a nice little patter with the punters, answering questions as best he can and joking around. Daryl glances up a few times from his sketches to meet Jesus's eyes and their smiles go from reassuring to something else over the course of the day. Daryl's head swims slightly and he focuses all of the nervous energy he feels into his sketches.

Rick hovers between the two tables, helping Michonne and coming over to talk to Jesus when things calm down slightly. Apparently they've discovered they both have a love for a couple of sci-fi writers that Daryl is unfamiliar with and talk enthusiastically about storylines and characters.

At one point Rick leans close to Daryl and says, "Your boy's a Michonneural."

At 5pm, things taper off and Daryl stretches, flexing his hand. He's done eight commissions already, with another nine on the list.

He turns to Jesus with a smile. "Thanks so much for helping me. You have no idea how much time it saves me to draw just having someone else deal with the prints."

"No pEugenelem. I had no idea you got this busy. I can't believe you can draw as quickly as you do. This is all..." he indicates the con as a whole, "...pretty awesome and new and...scary." He looks at Daryl and Daryl gets the feeling that he's not just talking about the convention. His eyes seem to search Daryl's more and more.

Daryl's emotions roil for the millionth time. "Yeah, it's pretty...terrifying," he says softly.

Glenn drags himself over to Daryl's table. "Is it over yet?" He kneels on the floor and rests his head in his arms on the table.

Jesus pats Glenn on the head. "I feel for you, man."

Glenn looks up, his eyes bloodshot and out of focus. "I'm so sorry but I have to go back to the hotel. I feel like microwaved crap. If I sleep it off, I'll be better for tomorrow."

Daryl nods. "Just let us know if we can get you anything."

Michonne gets up from her table and comes around to the front, giving Glenn a kick in the side. He groans in protest.

"I still haven't forgiven you for soaking our bathroom in puke."

"I'm sorry," Glenn mumbles and slumps against Michonne's legs. Michonne huffs out a sigh and takes her phone out of her pocket.

"Smile boys," she says and holds it up, ready to take a picture. Daryl and Jesus immediately lean in towards each other.

Michonne looks at the photo and quirks up an eyebrow. "Cute," she says and holds it out to them. There's no point in her showing them what they can both already see by now but she does anyway; they're leaning towards each other, Daryl's eyes bright and blue, a shy smile on his face. Jesus looks like there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Michonne makes sure they both take it in then grabs Glenn by the collar. "How much water have you drunk today?" she asks and drags him away.

 

***

 

Glenn heads back to the hotel, so the rest of them find a restaurant, some Italian place, and go for dinner. Daryl carries on with some sketches and the others talk easily amongst themselves. He occasionally glances up to see Michonne give him a look while Rick and Jesus are deep in conversation. He knows exactly what that stare means: Are you going to tell him? Daryl gives a tiny shake of his head. Not tonight. Michonne kicks him hard under the table.

They part ways at about 10pm and Daryl and Jesus get on the subway, sat next to each other, both quiet. A homeless guy gets on at the next stop, a cup full of change in his hand and he starts to sing Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship. He's really good and Daryl and Jesus can't help but break into laughter as the guy continues to sing. Daryl digs out ten dollars and puts it the guy's cup. He gives an appreciate nod and sways down the carriage, trying to charm the rest of the passengers smattered about the train.

Daryl looks at Jesus and they both smile. Daryl feels heat rising in his face and turns away.

Jesus stops on his floor when they get back to the apartment.

"What time are we leaving tomorrow?" he asks Daryl, flexing his left shoulder.

"The con starts at 10am so about 8:30 again, I guess. Is your arm okay?"

Jesus nods. "Yeah, just need to rest it a bit. Don't worry." He pauses. "I...uh..."

Daryl swallows and waits.

"See you tomorrow?" Jesus finally says, eyes unreadable.

Daryl steps away. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."

 

***

 

If the day before was insane, the Saturday is utter chaos. Daryl barely looks up from his sketches for most of the day. At any other con, he thinks he would feel a panic attack starting to come on but Jesus's presence at his table is keeping him grounded, giving him something to work towards. But now that there's a more than good chance that Jesus feels the Spencere way, he's suddenly terrified to say anything, worried still that everything could come crumbling down. He thought that Jesus was going to say something to him last night, would gladly have welcomed it, but he didn't and now Daryl can feel the pressure building back up. There's a palpable bubble around them now, getting smaller and smaller, crushing the air and drawing them closer and Daryl wants to pop that bubble so badly and just let things happen, but those insecurities are holding him back again.

He wouldn't have a minute to even get Jesus alone now, though. The aisles are packed with people, the noise around them suffocating. Jesus is stood up talking with people, handling Daryl's prints, barely getting a chance to do anything else. At 12:20pm, Daryl heads off for a panel with Darcy Lewis and Don Blake about self-publishing. He quickly checks his phone on the way and sees a text from Michonne, sent two minutes ago.

MICHONNE: This is getting silly now...

DARYL: What is?

MICHONNE: Don't give me that

Daryl stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

The panel is great - Darcy is hilarious and Daryl spends most of the panel laughing with Don. They talk quickly afterwards, Darcy asking Daryl if he'd like to take part in a podcast she's putting together. He takes her card and hurries back to the artist's alley. Rick is helping Jesus at Daryl's table, talking earnestly to him about something, Jesus nodding. They look relieved when they see Daryl come back. The crowds have eased slightly, most people heading off to lunch.

One upside, Daryl thinks as he walks by Negan's table, Negan in full-on pretentious mode with the people surrounding his table, is that he hasn't has to deal with Negan. Small favours and all that.

"You guys should go and have a break. I'll be fine on my own for a while."

Jesus rakes his hand through his hair. "That was bat-shit mayhem. I don't know how you do this."

Daryl gives a laugh. "You get used to it. Thanks again - I know this must be a bit overwhelming. You're okay though? Not getting too...closed in?"

Jesus shakes his head. "I'm fine, honestly. I'm having a great time. This is so different from anything I've ever done. Rick's been awesome too."

Daryl looks up; Rick is at Glenn's table talking to him about something. Glenn looks a lot better today; he bought Michonne three Game Of Thrones Funko Pop figures in a last ditch attempt at forgiveness for the puking and she's as happy as anything.

Rick eventually comes over. "Come on, let's get these losers some lunch. Anything in particular you want, Daryl?"

"Anything remotely digestible would be appreciated. Thanks guys."

Jesus turns back and gives Daryl a smile as he follows Rick down the aisle. Daryl sits down with a sigh and rubs his neck.

"You're dragging this out..." Michonne calls to him, sketching manically at her table.

"Please don't start. Just let me do this at my own pace."

"If we do that, we'll be sat here this time next year in exactly the Spencere place."

Daryl throws her a look and she holds up both hands. "Fine, fine. We're all restraining ourselves to the point of pain, waiting for you to do something. Actual physical pain."

A group of people walk away from Glenn's table and he leans over, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Has he told him yet?" he shouts from across the aisle and Daryl covers his face with his hands.

 

***

 

When six o' clock finally rolls around, Daryl couldn't be more relieved. He had to turn away sketches by three o'clock, not taking on anymore for fear of being unable to finish them by tomorrow. He still has a few to do, but he can get those done tomorrow morning. Maybe then he can actually have a walk around in the afternoon and buy some books.

Rick and Jesus are sat on the floor, backs against the booth behind their tables. Michonne has gone to find Rosita Espinosa to give her a USB stick with some page amendments on it, muttering and cursing as she walks off, still fuming from her earlier panel with Espinosa who apparently commandeered the whole thing. Rick gives Daryl a tired smile as Daryl packs away his drawing materials.

"How you feeling?" he asks.

Daryl nods and gives them both a huge smile. "Everything hurts and I'm dying."

Jesus gives a tired little laugh from the floor. "Today was insane. Legitimately insane."

Rick yawns. "This is what we do. We're comic book rock stars."

Glenn comes over and slumps on the floor next to Rick. "Well, this rock star just wants to go somewhere quiet for dinner and not drink any more alcohol, ever. Until the next con, at least."

Daryl takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. When he puts them back on, Jesus is watching him from the floor, his eyes peaceful, a small smile on his face. Daryl's chest aches.

Michonne comes back, too tired herself to make any fuss about Espinosa and they all get up and head out of the convention centre. Daryl and Jesus manage to fall behind a few feet and Daryl gets out his wrist support and puts it on they walk.

"Your hand hurts?" Jesus asks, concern in his voice.

"A little. It usually does after an intense day of sketching. It'll be fine tomorrow; I don't think I'll take on any more commissions."

Jesus gives him a little nudge with his arm. "If I didn't appreciate how hard you work before, I do now."

Daryl looks at the ground as they walk. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for your help this weekend. I never intended for you to be running my table..."

"It's been a blast. Really." Jesus looks genuinely pleased. "One day to go," he adds softly.

Daryl nods and lets out a shaky breath. "One day to go."

 

***

 

Michonne drags them into a Japanese restaurant for dinner, much to Daryl and Jesus's delight and they order noodles. Rick can't quite get the hang of his chopsticks and starts to eat his food with his hands, much to Michonne's disgust.

"It's like being married to a fucking caveman. And that's an insult to cavemen."

The restaurant is playing a mix CD of hits from the 60s, which Glenn finds hilarious for some reason. "Nothing adds to the atmosphere of a Japanese restaurant quite like The Kinks," he snorts.

Daryl is sat quietly, happy to listen to everybody else talk, tired but in that pleasant way when it's been a productive day. Norwegian Wood by The Beatles has just finished playing (Daryl makes a mental note to add it to his play list on Monday morning). When the next song comes on, he blinks a couple of times. It's California Girls by The Beach Boys; the one song he can only ever remember all of the lyrics to, out of all the songs in all the world. He sung it the day Jesus had his awful panic attack in a stinking alleyway and he sung it again, the day he thought Jesus would never speak to him again. His stomach flips slightly and he wonders if Jesus remembers. He glances over and Jesus is already looking back at him. He flits his eyes up, indicating the music and smiles sadly. Daryl swallows and gives a little nod, the significance of the song not lost on them.

 

***

 

Rick hangs his head when they all get to the subway station, about to head off in opposite directions. "Last day tomorrow..." he says pouting. Glenn gives him an exaggerated hug.

Michonne raises an eyebrow in Daryl's direction. "Yes, last day tomorrow," she says pointedly and Daryl shoots her a look. Jesus has joined Glenn in hugging Rick, the three of them swaying and laughing, so he hasn't picked up on Michonne's comment.

"You know, the more you three watch my every move, the less likely I am to make it," he hisses to her quietly.

Daryl and Jesus's train arrives and they hop on, laughing as Rick runs alongside blowing them kisses.

"You and Rick seem to have really connected," Daryl says to Jesus when they sit down, both exhausted. Daryl leans his head against the window.

Jesus nods. "Yeah, he's just really cool. I like Michonne and Glenn a lot too, don't get me wrong. Rick's been great this weekend though."

Daryl smiles a lazy smile. "I'm so happy you like my friends. And I'm really happy they like you too."

Jesus sits back. "You said they would."

"Mmm," Daryl manages and closes his eyes, just for a second.

Jesus is shaking him gently and he sits up.

"Daryl, next stop."

Daryl looks around. "I slept the whole way?"

"You looked like you needed it," Jesus says and stands up, holding his hand out to Daryl. Daryl lets himself be hoisted up and rubs his face, shifting his portfolio in his arms. Jesus leans against the door, waiting for the train to stop, lost in thought. As they walk back to the apartment, Daryl chides himself, knowing yet again that he and Jesus will part ways at the second floor landing.

 

***

 

Michonne is talking quietly to Glenn and Rick at her table when Daryl and Jesus arrive the next morning. Rick nods several times and then sees them and gives a wave. Daryl puts his portfolio down and Michonne grabs him in tight hug from behind, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Last day," she says sadly, no admonishment in her voice this time. Daryl can feel her face pressed to his back. He rubs a hand along her arms.

"I know," he says softly. "Why don't you and Rick just move to New York?" He turns around and hugs her tight.

"Believe me, if we could afford to..."

Rick grabs Jesus by the shoulders. "Come on, Coffee Boy. We've got important work to do." They walk off towards the coffee stand.

Glenn joins Michonne and Daryl. "So, nothing yet, huh?"

Daryl shakes his head. "The timing..."

Glenn gives him a hard punch on the arm.

"Ow!"

"Just do it, for the love of crap. Put us and yourself out of all of our miseries. This weekend has been like a slow death - "

"That's such an exaggeration - "

" - and the urge to just grab you both and smoosh your faces together is starting to look more and more like the only solution to this whole farce." Glenn wags a finger in Daryl's face.

"What time is our Winter Soldier panel?" Daryl asks Michonne.

"Three o'clock. And don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. The subject has now officially been dropped."

Michonne and Glenn groan and grab each other, wailing loudly into each other's shoulders. Daryl ignores them. Rick and Jesus come back with coffee for everyone and Jesus sits next to Daryl, watching as he sketches, a few minutes to go before the main doors open.

"How many sketches do you have left to do?" he asks, eating a cinnamon roll. Daryl can smell the cinnamon on his breath; yet another thing to drive him insane. Daryl loves cinnamon and the thought of Jesus tasting like it is almost too much to think about.

"Um," Daryl checks his list. "Six. Hopefully I'll have them done by my panel this afternoon."

"I was thinking of coming along, if that's okay. Rick said he would watch your and Michonne's tables."

Daryl smiles. "Sure. Just...I'm terrible on panels, so just be prepared for lots of mumbling and blushing."

"I'll sit at the front and cheer you on," Jesus says with a grin and gets up to talk to Rick.

Daryl stares down at his sketches. Today. It has to be today. He can't keep wussing out. He groans to himself, louder than he'd meant to.

"Everything okay?" Michonne says from her table.

Daryl rests his face in his hands. "Yes. No."

Michonne turns back to her sketchpad. "Your own damn fault," she says simply.

It's definitely the quieter of the three days and Daryl isn't complaining. He can actually talk to people today and his commissions are coming along quickly. Jesus sits next to him for the most part, helping out when he can, joining in with several conversations. When it gets quiet, he huddles with Rick, talking and laughing. Daryl gets a text.

MICHONNE: If you don't make a move on Jesus soon, I'm worried that Rick might

The three girls Daryl met at Ultron Con find his table and all talk to him excitedly, promising him that they'll be at his panel later. Michonne smiles wickedly from her table and mouths "so flirting with you".

Daryl finally finishes his commissions not long before the panel and throw his hands up. "I'm free!"

Jesus comes over and sits down. "You're done?"

Daryl breathes a sigh of relief. "Yes. I have to mail a few out to people because they left yesterday, but I'm officially done."

Michonne looks at her phone and stands up. "Okay, we'd better go. Let's get this over with. Are you coming with us, Jesus?"

Rick walks over to them. "I got this covered. Have fun at the panel."

Michonne grimaces. "Negan Stark is on the panel. There's no fun involved."

Jesus finds a seat at the front of the audience and wishes them luck, touching Daryl on the arm as he does. Michonne pokes Daryl in the side.

The panel ends up being more fun than usual, Negan actually acting graciously for a change and letting Michonne and Daryl get more than three words in each. Daryl has a feeling that Spencer had something to do with that. He's a great addition to the panel; easy-going and funny, getting the audience involved with questions before it's even time for a Q and A, much to the moderators annoyance.

The panel is starting to draw to a close but Spencer starts to talk with Michonne about working across multiple disciplines and Daryl feels a flutter when he glances in the audience and sees Jesus watching him. He holds a hand up to Daryl, a little smile on his face. Daryl smiles back, forgetting where he is for a second. He hears a throat clear softly to his left and turns to see Negan, sitting and watching him with a huge grin. He looks over to Jesus in the front row, then back to Daryl and winks at him.

Daryl turns away from him quickly, his cheeks going hot. This is ridiculous. His feelings for Jesus being obvious to his close friends he can take; he's more than happy to sit through the teasing and the cajoling, the not-so gentle encouragement. But to have Negan figure it all out one second into meeting Jesus and then sit here grinning at him like a moron is too much. He keeps his eyes down for the rest of the panel.

 

***

 

Daryl and Michonne talk with Spencer quickly outside of the hall, before Spencer has to run back to his booth. "Still got some portfolio reviews to do. Look, we should all have a Skype meeting at some point. I'd love to get the two of you working on another book so if you want to think about pitching something..."

Daryl and Michonne huddle together excitedly as Spencer leaves.

"Holy crap, this could be really cool," Michonne says. "Remember that horror comic idea we were throwing around?"

"Yeah, I think we should start putting something together..." Daryl tapers off as Negan comes out of the hall and Daryl can see Jesus stuck in a knot of people not far behind him. Negan sees Daryl and walks by, leaning in close as he does with that big smug grin slapped all over his stupid face.

"So obvious, Dixon. I almost said something right then and there on the panel but you know what? Even I'm not that much of a dick." He walks off without another word.

Michonne is about to ask what the hell that was about when Jesus joins them. "That was so cool," he says with an impressed smile. "You two were awesome up there." If he noticed Negan's little performance, he doesn't say anything.

Michonne casually puts an arm around Daryl. "You know, the con closes in an hour; why don't you two have a walk around? You've barely left the table all weekend. Go and catch the rest of the show while it's quiet. Me and Rick can take care of the tables."

"Are you sure? What if it gets busy - " Daryl asks, and Michonne gives his arm a tight squeeze.

"Yes, I'm sure," she interrupts him through a gritted-teeth smile.

Jesus grabs Daryl by the arm and pulls him away before he can say anything else. "Thanks Michonne!" Jesus calls and she starts to walk back to the artist's alley with a big smile on her face.

They wander through the aisles, looking at the booths filled with toys, comics, replica weapons, obscure actors who played bit parts in old sci-fi movies that most of the younger crowd pEugeneably won't have even seen. Jesus sees a life-size model of The TermiMichonneor and drags Daryl over for a picture, trying his best to look stern as Daryl takes one, but unable to keep a straight face. They giggle together at a guy bent over some comic boxes on a dealer's table, his ass crack on prominent display.

Daryl is giddy as Jesus pulls him from booth to booth, not caring about the con or what's around them, just happy to be with him, losing himself in Jesus's excitement, that intense warmth spreading through his body and making his head feel muzzy. They stop at a graphic novel stall and look through the books. Daryl picks up a few volumes of Fables. Jesus is trying to decide on a couple of books and Daryl watches him, how perfect his profile is, how soft his brown hair looks. Jesus looks up to ask Daryl's opinion and stops before saying anything.

He gives Daryl a questioning little smile. "What?"

Daryl swallows, kicking himself again, wondering which opportunity is going to be the right one. "Nothing," he says softly.

Jesus holds up The Authority and Locke & Key. "I can't decide so I'll get both."

As they start to walk off, Jesus stops Daryl and points at a pretty amazing Totoro cosplayer. "I have no idea what that is, but I want a photo with it."

Daryl reaches out to take Jesus's phone but he shakes his head. "I want one with both of us." He asks a girl standing nearby if she would take a picture for him. Daryl smiles and steps to the other side of the cosplayer, waiting while the girl takes a couple of pictures.

Jesus thanks her and Daryl waves to the cosplayer as he/she walks off, waving back. "Thanks Totoro," he calls.

"You know what that thing is?" Jesus asks.

Daryl nods with a grin. "I'll tell you about it later."

Jesus steps close to Daryl and smiles as he shows him the photo. It's ridiculous; they're either side of the cosplayer, Jesus with a huge wide-eyed expression, Daryl just smiling like this happens to him every day.

"You look cute," Jesus says softly and Daryl looks at him, meeting Jesus's grey-blue eyes and he's telling Daryl, telling him that he can say something. Asking him to tell him, in that silent way of his. Daryl blinks and feels the heat rising in his face. He searches for the right words.

"Jesus..." he starts but swallows hard and can't go on. He lets out a breath and looks away, nerves getting to him, feeling like a failure because he can't even do the one thing he promised himself.

He looks down in surprise when he feels Jesus's right hand wrap around his left, fingers threading through fingers. He looks up and Jesus just smiles at him, tender, eyes sincere, never leaving Daryl's. I know, he's saying without saying anything. His thumb rubs softly against Daryl's hand, a small reassuring gesture.

Daryl suddenly feels overwhelmed with...with everything. He feels the Spencere way. Jesus feels the Spencere way. He squeezes Jesus's hand gently and finally smiles back. A small self-deprecating smile. I'm an idiot, he wants to say but it's not happening. Jesus just smiles, chewing his bottom lip.

They walk slowly down the aisle, back towards artist's alley, hands interlaced. They glance at each other every few seconds, suddenly not wanting to look anywhere else. Daryl's heart is thumping madly in his chest and he's sure Jesus can feel it through his fingers. Jesus continues that slow, soft rub of his thumb against Daryl's hand and each stroke sends tremors of anticipation through him . They reach artist's alley and both let go of their hands together, walking towards the tables. Rick looks up and calls Jesus over, a stack of books in his hand. Jesus gives Daryl a furtive smile and heads over.

Michonne looks up from her sketching as Daryl walks by. She sees his face and her eyes widen. Daryl gives her a little nod and walks behind his table, putting the books he bought in his backpack and sits down. Michonne glances over to where Rick and Jesus are talking vigorously about whatever books Rick has in his hands. Daryl busies himself with shuffling his prints around. His phone vibrates.

MICHONNE: DID YOU TELL HIM

DARYL: He knows

MICHONNE: DID YOU KISS??!!!!

DARYL: Not yet

MICHONNE: WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYY

DARYL: Not here

He hears Michonne make a high-pitched whining sound. He looks up and over at Glenn. He's sat at his table, hands clutching at his head. DID YOU? he mouths.

Daryl nods to Glenn but puts his hands up in a just-calm-the-fuck-down-don't-make-a-big-deal gesture. Glenn looks over to Michonne and they frantically wave their hands around. Daryl looks over to Jesus and Rick; they're still talking about the books, mercifully unaware of the weird silent mime show taking place just behind them. The con is winding down quickly, so the aisle is thankfully free of people. Negan isn't at his table either, which Daryl couldn't be more grateful for.

Daryl taps out a text to Glenn and Michonne.

DARYL: It's done, whatever's going to happen will happen. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE

They both read it and give him the finger.

The con finally ends and they all start to pack away their things. Jesus dismantles Daryl's roller Rhee while Daryl packs away his prints, both darting looks at each other and smiling shyly as they do. Daryl turns around to see Rick and Michonne both watching with huge childish grins on their faces. Glenn wanders over, always the first to finish packing and helps Michonne to take down her table display. He's smiling like a goon at Daryl and Jesus too and Daryl thinks he has the best-worst friends ever.

"What time are your flights?" Jesus asks them, taking Michonne's packed-up Rhee from Rick.

"Ours is at 8pm," Rick says taking one of Michonne's con bags. "I think we'll just head straight to the airport and get dinner before we go."

Glenn sits up on Daryl's empty table. "10pm. I'll do the Spencere. Why are these things always over so quickly?"

Michonne packs the last of her stuff away and they all stand in a little group, happy and sad and excited - three of them excited for the other two, two of them for each other.

"So Jesus," Michonne says, hands on her hips, head tilted in a smirk, "how was your first comic con?"

Jesus scratches his neck and nods, looking at the floor, slightly emotional. "It was amazing."

Rick walks over and gives him a big hug. "Now we've got another reason to look forward to conventions so much." He throws Daryl a big smile.

"Come on, we need to get the rest of our stuff from the cloakroom," Michonne says and turns away quickly, striding down the aisle. Daryl knows she's getting upset.

Glenn and Rick pick up their remaining bags and head after her, leaving Daryl and Jesus to walk after them.

"I'm glad you had a good time this weekend," Daryl says quietly.

Jesus looks at him, eyes bright. "I really did. And it's not over yet."

Michonne, Rick and Glenn get their remaining bags from the cloakroom and they all wait outside for a cab, hugging and saying good-bye. Glenn and Rick grab Jesus and crush him in a man-hug.

"Next con, you're going to have to meet Captain Dixon. He's a lot of fun," Glenn says with a snicker, indicating to Daryl. "Very explicit."

Rick snorts. "Yeah, I get the feeling we'll be able to divulge a few more embarrassing stories about Daryl next time we see you."

Jesus raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

Daryl gives a helpless shrug. "I can't win."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Michonne pulls Daryl in and holds him tight. She presses her mouth to his ear. "You will tell me everything," she whispers fiercely.

Daryl squeezes her. "You know I will."

Michonne lets go of him and hugs Jesus. "It was so, so awesome to meet you and hang out with you. I can see why Daryl likes you as much as he does."

Jesus looks as pink as Daryl does when she pulls away, giving Daryl her little raised eyebrow smirk as she picks up her bags. "See you boys in Pasadena, I guess."

Glenn throws up both arms. "My home turf, finally!"

Daryl and Jesus watch as they all pile into a cab. Rick rolls down the window and sticks his head out like a dog as they drive away, Daryl and Jesus waving until they're out of sight.

Daryl turns to Jesus. "Home?"

Jesus nods and they head to the subway.

 

***

 

They both hesitate on the second floor landing when they finally get back.

"Do you...want to come up and ...watch a movie or something?" Daryl finally asks, his voice fuzzy.

Jesus nods. "Yeah. Just...give me a few minutes?" He indicates to his apartment.

"Sure. Here, I'll take the rest of the stuff up." He takes the other Rhee and backpack from Jesus. "I'll...I'll leave the door open."

Jesus nods again and unlocks his door. Daryl heads up the stairs, his feet feeling slightly heavier than usual. He opens his front door and dumps all of his con stuff in a pile, intending to put it away whenever. He suddenly has no idea what to do with himself. What happens now? How is this going to...? He picks up his portfolio in a panic and heads to his desk. He opens his laptop and puts on his music, if only to drown out the silence and the doubt it will bring if he listens too hard.

He takes out the commissions he needs to mail and starts to stuff them into card-backed envelopes. Jesus knocks on the door and opens it, smiling when he sees Daryl at his desk.

"You're not working again already, are you?" he asks as he closes the door and walks over to him.

"I, uh, no...I just wanted to get these ready to mail tomorrow..."

Jesus nods and leans on Daryl's desk next to him.

"I won't be long," Daryl says and continues to pack the envelopes, hands shaking.

"That's okay," Jesus waits as Daryl works, looking over to his bookcase. After a minute he indicates the music playing from Daryl's laptop.

"I really like this track," he says softly.

Daryl nods. "It's that French guy whose stuff you like to dance to. It's called Last Kiss." His voice sounds weird and he's still frantically packing envelopes, not wanting to look up.

Jesus reaches out and takes Daryl's hand. "Daryl," he says, his voice gentle.

Daryl finally looks up at him and he's never been more terrified in his life, everything has been leading up to this point and there's every chance he could blow it and ruin everything and Jesus will never want anything to do with him ever again and then...

...and then Jesus is leaning over and pressing his lips to Daryl's, one hand resting on his shoulder, pulling him in and Daryl forgets everything bad he's ever thought about himself as Jesus kisses him softly, running his hand up Jesus's arm to his neck, feeling how soft his hair is and wondering how he could possibly have gone this long without doing this. They kiss like that at Daryl's desk, soft and slow until Daryl feels Jesus smile into his mouth and he can't help but smile back.

Jesus pulls away, his hand stroking Daryl's face, fingers tracing a line from his eyebrow to his jaw, eyes hazy and pleased. "What took you so long?"

Daryl kisses Jesus softly on the corner of the mouth and buries his face in Jesus's neck, his arms going around Jesus's waist and pulling him close. "I don't know...I was scared...I'm an idiot..." he mumbles.

Jesus's rests his left hand hesitantly on Daryl's hip, still self-conscious about it, and then slides it up his back, pulling him closer. "You're an amazing idiot," he says huskily into Daryl's shoulder. "I'm so glad I met you. So fucking glad..."

"Me too," Daryl whispers. "You have no idea."

Daryl raises his head and looks at Jesus, losing himself in those eyes, feeling like he's underwater. "I wanted to tell you how much I...for a long time. But I wasn't sure you were ready or if you felt the Spencere way..."

Jesus gives a knowing little smile. "I wasn't sure either but then Rick told me how you felt."

Daryl blinks. "What? When?"

"On Thursday night, at the bar. When we went to get drinks." He's smiling wider now, nudging his nose into Daryl's, rubbing gently.

"What...the fuck..." Daryl splutters.

Jesus gives a little laugh. "Yeah, I was a bit taken aback. I mean, I'd only just met the guy and we're at the bar making small talk and then he just says, "You know Daryl's crazy about you, right?" just like we were talking about the weather or something."

"What...what did you say?"

"I was kind of shocked, I mean, it came out of nowhere, but then I just said something like, "Well, that's good to know because I'm kind of crazy about him too." And then Rick just nodded and asked me if I was going to do anything about it."

"I don't...but you..."

Jesus runs his hand up and down Daryl's back. "I told him I didn't know and he just nodded and said, "Well, we'll have to do something about that." Turns out you'd already said something to Michonne about telling me how you felt, so I just...waited."

Daryl shakes his head. "I can't believe those guys...they totally set me up......" He looks at Jesus, still smiling at Daryl. "So you knew? Since Thursday?"

Jesus nods and kisses him softly on the cheek.

"Was it worth the wait?"

Jesus brings his mouth close to Daryl's, his breath hot. "Every second," he says and brushes his lips against Daryl's. Daryl sighs and pulls him in, not wanting to waste another minute of not having Jesus less than an inch away from him, kissing him like he's wanted to for the last couple of months. They manage to stumble over to the couch, giggling into each other's mouths, Jesus holding Daryl by his shirt collar, Daryl's hands on Jesus's hips and they fall onto it, foreheads smacking together painfully as Jesus lands on top of Daryl laughing, hands either side of him. He smiles down at him, like he can't believe his luck.

"You have no idea, Daryl..." he says and gently takes Daryl's glasses off and puts them on the coffee table, "...how fucking incredible you are..."

Daryl gazes up at Jesus, slowly brings a hand up to brush through his hair. "I can say the Spencere. God, Jesus..." He surges up for another kiss, pulling Jesus down and they forget everything but each other.

 

***

 

They lie together an hour later, legs tangled, Jesus against the back of the couch, face nestled into Daryl's neck, drawing lazy patterns into his back with his right hand. Daryl sighs happily, breathing in the coconut smell of Jesus's hair, letting himself relish how good he feels against him.

"I can't believe I almost ruined everything..." Jesus murmurs into Daryl's chest.

Daryl rubs his hand up Jesus's arm. "What are you talking about?"

Jesus leans back, face to face with Daryl. "When I...when I had my breakdown. I was so sure I'd ruined everything. But you..." he frowns slightly, "you didn't...give up on me..."

Daryl runs his hand through Jesus's hair and kisses him on the forehead. "That was never an option."

Jesus's hand tangles in Daryl's shirt, pulling him closer even though there's no space left between them. "This is going to sound so...melodramatic but...you...you saved my life...you know that, don't you?"

"Jesus..."

"No," he says firmly, eyes darting frantically to Daryl's, "you did. The day we met, I was so ready to give up and just become a shell of a person and you...you were there on the stairs and you looked up at me with those unbelievable blue eyes and it felt like...I suddenly felt like maybe I could claw my way back out of the hole I'd let myself fall into..." Jesus closes his eyes and shakes his head.

Daryl holds him tight. "You saved me too, Jesus. You did."

Jesus opens his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, a small line of worry between his eyes. "I...I think I'm in love with you, Daryl."

Daryl smiles softly. "Well, I already know that I'm in love with you." And the smile that breaks out on Jesus's face is worth everything - the waiting, the pain, the doubt - and they fall into each other again, kissing and laughing and maybe crying a little. Then Daryl's stomach growls and they laugh again.

"Pizza?" Daryl says, nuzzling Jesus's neck.

Jesus nods. "Lots of pepperoni."

 

***

 

They watch Dredd while they eat, curled together on the couch. When the movie ends, Jesus turns to Daryl and kisses him, both of them tasting like pizza and Sprite.

"Can we...is it okay to take things slow? It's been...a while for me with all of this..."

"Of course. It's been a while for me too. I mean, I wasn't with Dwight for very long and...I, uh...I've never actually...slept...with anyone." Daryl looks at him, trying to gauge Jesus's reaction.

Jesus's face is soft. "You've...never?"

Daryl shakes his head.

Jesus leans in and kisses him tenderly, his hand on Daryl's neck, stroking lazily. When they part, Jesus smiles slyly. "That's kind of hot."

Daryl immediately reddens. "Jesus!"

Jesus laughs. "It is though!" He kisses Daryl's jaw. "I get to have you all to myself."

Daryl lets Jesus trail kisses up and down his neck. "Will you stay here tonight?" he asks quietly. "I mean, just to sleep...not..."

Jesus nods. "I don't think I could actually pull myself away from you now, even if I wanted to."

Daryl manages to sit up and rises off of the couch, holding out his hand. Jesus smiles up at him, hair a mess, his shirt slightly askew. He takes Daryl's hand and Daryl steers them over to the desk to shut down his laptop, Jesus kissing his hand the whole way. Daryl turns off the TV and the living room light, laughing softly as Jesus wraps his arms around Daryl's middle and kisses the back of his neck. They head through to the bedroom and Daryl switches on the bedside lamp. Jesus looks around.

"I've never actually seen your room before."

Daryl roots around in his dresser and throws him a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. "Well, you'd better get used to it."

Jesus gives Daryl a little smile. "I'll get changed in the bathroom." He leaves the room and Daryl quickly gets into his own t-shirt and pants, unable to believe that Jesus will be staying with him, in his bed. He considers texting Michonne and Rick but isn't sure that their flight will have landed yet. Jesus comes back in, looking unbelievably cute in Daryl's Queens Of The Stone Age t-shirt. He folds his clothes neatly and puts them on the floor.

Daryl slides his hands around Jesus's waist. "I love you, Jesus Rovia," he says, a blissful smile on his face.

Jesus huffs a breath and pulls Daryl in, arms around his neck. "I love you too, Daryl Dixon."

They pull away and laugh together, climbing into bed, arms immediately wrapping around each other, legs weaving together. They talk softly and kiss, Daryl taking Jesus's left hand when Jesus tries to roll away onto his good side, kissing his fingers and placing it on his hip. Jesus shakes his head and presses his face into Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl's phone vibrates and he rolls away to pick it up from the bedside table, Jesus moaning as he does.

"Just a second," Daryl laughs as he tries to pull Daryl back immediately.

"Get back here," Jesus gripes and his legs tighten around Daryl's as he opens a text from Michonne.

MICHONNE: FINALLY back home, flight was delayed an hour. Hope things are going well hint hint tell me what the fuck is going on

Jesus reads the text with him and laughs. "Shall we put them out of their misery?"

Daryl sighs. "I guess we'd better or I'll never hear the end of it."

He starts to type out a reply but Jesus takes his phone.

"Let's give them something good." He sets the camera to selfie mode and holds it up. Daryl grins and curls his hand around Jesus's neck, kissing him on the cheek. Jesus snaps a picture and they look at it. Daryl's heart leaps; Jesus is staring dreamily into the camera while Daryl kisses him and they both look stupidly happy.

Jesus turns to Daryl and kisses him softly on the lips. "I think that one will have to be my new wallpaper."

Daryl grins and attaches the picture to text back to Michonne with nothing else. Before he hits send he says, "Okay, how long before we get a reply?"

Jesus thinks for a second. "Less than a minute."

Daryl hits send and they both snicker together. Less than a minute later, a text comes back. Jesus laughs.

The text is a photo of Michonne and Rick, both looking ecstatically at the camera, socks raining down around them like confetti, IT'S ABOUT FUCKING TIME!!!!! written underneath.

Daryl and Jesus laugh and Daryl texts back, Jesus watching, his head on Daryl's chest.

DARYL: We got there in the end

MICHONNE: We're so fucking happy for you guys

DARYL: Yeah, we're pretty happy too - we're kind of in love with each other :)

Jesus kisses Daryl's neck when he types that.

MICHONNE: Oh my god!!! I'm crying, like really crying. You made me cry. Rick's laughing at me

DARYL: Speak soon :)

MICHONNE: me and Rick love you guys

Daryl puts his phone back on the table and turns off his lamp, Jesus wrapping around him as he rolls back over. They kiss softly in the dark for a while, hands moving over each other's backs, Jesus giggling when Daryl's hand runs lightly up his side.

"Oh, so you've got a ticklish spot too, huh?" he laughs into Jesus's mouth. "I'll remember that when I need to inflict a little torture of my own."

They finally settle, pressed against each other, breathing together.

Daryl is starting to drift to sleep when Jesus says drowsily, "Daryl?"

Daryl presses his face to Jesus's hair. "Hmmm?"

"Remember when we went to see Edge Of Tomorrow? And you asked me what day I'd want to relive over and over and I didn't know?"

"Yeah..."

Jesus kisses Daryl on his collar bone. "Today. I'd want to relive today. Just to get to now."

Daryl feels a lump rise in his throat and he takes a shaky breath. He strokes Jesus's hair until he falls asleep.

 

***

 

Daryl blinks awake, unaware of the time but very aware of the warm body pressed against him, an arm around his waist and steady breaths making a hot patch on his back. A wave of happiness washes over him and he feels for the hand wrapped around him. He can't help himself and rolls over slowly, greeted by a sleeping Jesus Rovia, hair all over the place, mouth slightly open. Daryl can't hold back a goofy grin; he looks so adorable. He gently raises a hand and runs it down Jesus's face, fingers feeling two day old stubble, down to his neck. Jesus shifts and makes a noise. Daryl kisses him softly on the eyebrow, resting his hand on Jesus's neck. Jesus makes another noise and his mouth curls into a small smile.

"Do that again," he says not opening his eyes, voice thick with sleep, shuffling closer to Daryl and wrapping a leg around him.

Daryl kisses both eyebrows and then makes his way down Jesus's face to his mouth, stopping before he gets there.

"You know we're both going to taste horrible," Jesus murmurs and opens his eyes, his smile widening as he sees Daryl.

Daryl runs his tongue over Jesus's lips, making him chuff in surprise. "I don't care," Daryl says with a grin.

Jesus brings his hand to the back of Daryl's neck and pulls him closer. "Well, if you don't care..."

They kiss greedily, Jesus's hands in Daryl's hair, Daryl's hand running down Jesus's side and getting a small squeal in his mouth because of it. When Daryl's hand runs up Jesus's back under his t-shirt, Jesus twists his body away from Daryl.

"Uh, might have to stop," he says breathlessly. "Getting a bit too excited."

Daryl smiles and rolls onto his back. "Yeah, good idea." He stretches his arms above his head. "You want breakfast?" He sits up and reaches for his glasses, turning to look at Jesus, grinning and flushed.

"That would be great. Coffee and Cheerios?"

Daryl swings his legs out of the bed and gets up. "I'm sure I can manage that."

Jesus reaches out. "Hey, come here."

Daryl crawls across the bed to him and Jesus leans up to kiss him quickly on the mouth. "Love you, punk."

Daryl grins. "Love you, jerk." He gets up and heads to the door. "Are you coming or what?"

Jesus gives him an embarrassed smile. "Uh, give me a minute. To calm down."

He emerges from the bedroom ten minutes later, Daryl already on the couch eating his own cereal, a bowl on the table for Jesus along with two cups of coffee. Music plays from Daryl's laptop. Jesus joins him and they eat in silence, legs pressed together. Jesus puts his bowl down when he finishes and gets up, going to his desk and shuffling through his therapy paperwork. He comes back with his Positive Life Changes journal.

"Can I show you something?" he asks Daryl.

Daryl puts his arm around Jesus's shoulder as he sits down. "Sure."

"When me and Carol started this, I had everything written down on like a million sheets of paper. She thought a journal might be a good idea to keep everything in one place and she suggested I write down the most important things I wanted to work on at the front, as a reminder of what I wanted to aim towards." He hesitates and hands Daryl the journal.

Daryl looks at him. "Are you sure?"

Jesus nods.

Daryl flips the journal open to the first page. There are just two lines written down:

-Stop blaming myself for Tim's death.

-Acknowledge my feelings for Daryl.

Daryl blinks hard, tears coming too quickly to his eyes. "How long ago did you start this?"

Jesus puts his hand on Daryl's knee and squeezes lightly. "A while ago," he says quietly.

Daryl nods and hands Jesus back the journal.

"Oh hey, don't cry," Jesus says, surprised when he sees the tears and hugs Daryl hard. "I didn't mean for it to make you cry."

Daryl shakes his head against Jesus's shoulder. "No...it's good crying." He takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes. "It's happy crying," he says with a little laugh.

Jesus smooths down Daryl's hair. "You were always one of the main reasons I wanted to get better. You still are."

Daryl takes Jesus's hand and sniffles. "Wow."

Jesus cocks his head when Aimee Mann starts to play. He grins and stands up, holding his hand out to Daryl. "Come up here and dance with me."

Daryl takes his hand and Jesus pulls him up, putting Daryl's arms around his neck, his own hands on Daryl's hips. He doesn't do anything more than sway, looking lovingly at Daryl as he starts to sing softly to him. Daryl presses his face to Jesus's and sways with him, just listening to his voice.

Daryl Dixon never thought he could be this happy.

And neither did Jesus Rovia for that matter.


	10. Chapter 10

"You're staring again," Jesus says without looking up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you blame me?" Daryl grins back. It's been over a week since they officially got together and Daryl still can't stop himself from looking at Jesus when they work. All he wants to do is grab Jesus and drag him over to the couch and kiss him and run his hands through his hair and...

"Finish that damn page and we can do stuff later," Jesus's face breaks into a smile and he finally gives Daryl a wily glance.

Daryl turns back to his laptop begrudgingly. "Fine," he mutters. In the few days after Vision-Con, they'd done nothing but stay less a foot apart from each other kissing, touching, watching movies and playing video games that somehow always ended in more kissing and touching before the movie was over, video games paused and left unfinished. Finally, Jesus had stepped in and dragged Daryl over to his desk one morning when Daryl decided that chewing Jesus's ear and whispering sweet and slightly stirring nothings to him in bed was going to be the order of the day and firmly stated that they needed to get back to work. Fun stuff would have to wait until comics were drawn.

"How do I put two layers together without flattening the whole image?" Jesus asks, his face scrunching up slightly.

Daryl gets up and moves around his desk to Jesus's. He rests his head on Jesus's shoulder and shows him how to move the layers together that he wants to flatten and go to merge down in the layers menu.

Jesus twists his head around and kisses Daryl's cheek. "Thanks."

Daryl kisses him back on his eyebrow, making Jesus smile in that sleepy way that drives him crazy. "Anytime."

He's considering kissing his way down to Jesus's neck when Skype starts to chirp so he hops back to his desk; it's Michonne. He's spoken to her a couple of times since the con, she and Rick stepping back after their meddling and giving Daryl and Jesus some space. Not that it stopped her sending Daryl text after text asking if they'd done anything particularly dirty yet.

DARYL: When we do, I'm only going to tell you that it's happened. Don't expect details

MICHONNE: So you haven't yet?

DARYL: We're taking it slow

MICHONNE: BORING

DARYL: Oh, I'm sorry. I'll go and jump his bones right now

MICHONNE: :D

DARYL: Get bent

Daryl looks up at Jesus. "You don't mind if I talk to Michonne, do you? It won't be too distracting?"

"Don't be stupid; it's your apartment. It'll be nice to talk to her, anyway."

Daryl picks up the call. "Hey Michonne."

"Dixon: What is best in life?"

Daryl answers immediately. "Crush your enemies. See them driven before you. Hear the lamentations of their women."

Jesus snorts. "Oh my god, you two are such nerds."

Michonne laughs. "Is that Hot Boyfriend I can hear insulting us?"

"Is that what you're all calling me now?"

"Sorry, Hot Boyfriend - I can't hear you because you're not versed in the ways of Conan The Barbarian like me and Daryl are. Get back to us when you can quote the entire opening monologue and maybe we'll talk."

Jesus gives Daryl a withering expression. "Please don't tell me that you both know it from memory."

Daryl and Michonne answer together. "Well, yeah." They all laugh and Daryl shrugs at Jesus.

"This is kind of what you've signed yourself up for."

Jesus shakes his head. "Is there any way I can amend my contract?"

"Okay, okay. No more nerdery. For now." Michonne shuffles some papers about loudly. "Business talk. How are you guys?"

Daryl throws Jesus an admiring look which Jesus returns with a little smile. "Yeah, we're good. Just getting back to work."

"Rick misses you both. He's been so depressed since Vision-Con. I think I should feel insulted that my company isn't enough but it's so pathetic the way he's moping around, I can't be angry."

"Yeah, I've been getting random texts from him asking me if I'm thinking about him. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not," Jesus says with a worried laugh.

"We'll have to arrange a video Skype or something one evening," Daryl says and Jesus nods.

"That would be good," Michonne agrees. "I can't take any more of his bromance pining."

They talk for a while about movies, Jesus zoning out slightly when Daryl and Michonne start to argue about Blu-ray re-issues (or something, he has no idea) and which commentaries are worth listening to on certain movies.

"Oh hey, I know what I was going to bring up. Jesus..." Michonne says and he looks up, feeling slightly silly for doing so when she's not even in the room.

"Yeah?"

"You're still serious about getting into flatting, right?"

"Yeah, I'm getting there...still picking up a few things."

"He's doing great," Daryl interjects. "He can flat faster than I can." Jesus shakes his head at Daryl and Daryl just smiles back.

"Well, I'm so ready to get rid of Hank. How would you feel about flatting issue 10 of Winter Soldier for me when it's done? I think we'll be far enough ahead that it won't be a rush job and you can see how you feel a few spreads in and decide if it's something you might want to do for me on a regular basis."

Jesus looks up at Daryl, surprised. Daryl nods at him encouragingly. "I, wow, that's..."

"The page rate isn't amazing," Michonne says apologetically, "but I pay slightly better than most colourists do. And given that you're Daryl's boyfriend, I think I can trust you more to get the job done because I can just rag on him if you're slow or crap."

"Hey!" Daryl exclaims and Jesus chuffs out a little laugh.

Jesus looks slightly moved. "I don't know what to say. Are you sure? I mean, I haven't been doing this very long and I wouldn't want to - "

"Better to jump straight in and see how it all works," Daryl can hear the resolve in Michonne's voice - she's hell-bent on convincing Jesus to do it.

"Okay. Sure. Let's do it!" Jesus sits back in his chair and looks at Daryl, a big smile on his face, eyes filled with excitement.

Daryl can't help the swell of pride that rises in his chest. Jesus has come so far since they met and he seems happy at the moment, really happy. He still attends his therapy sessions but Carol thinks they can maybe start to think about dropping a session a week. She was overjoyed to hear about Jesus and Daryl finally admitting their feelings for each other and thinks it's a big step towards Jesus's eventual and hopeful recovery. He'd told Daryl the other night that he knows he'll never be the person he was before Tim's death again, but he likes the new person that he's becoming.

"You've got a lot to do with that," he'd said, staring into Daryl's bright blue eyes. Daryl had held him tighter.

"Awesome!" Michonne exclaims. "I know you'll do a good job. I know a ton of other artists looking for flatters too so the work is out there if you want it..."

They talk for a while longer and Michonne finally says she has to go. "I'm going to make Rick a Baked Alaska, which I NEVER do because it's really hard and I get angry if it doesn't come out perfect, but it's his favourite and I'm so sick of him being all sad and stuff."

Daryl and Jesus both make smooching noises. "You're so cute, Michonne," Jesus says in a high voice.

"You can both fuck off. Okay, love you, bye," she says and hangs up.

Daryl gives Jesus an encouraging look. "You're going to get paid for doing comic work!"

Jesus gives him a self-conscious frown. "But what if I - "

"You won't," Daryl interrupts. "I'm here to help, anyway."

Jesus sighs and reaches his hand across his desk to Daryl's. Daryl takes it, rubbing gently. "I'm so lucky." He meets Daryl's eyes.

Daryl gives him his lop-sided smile. "I'm the lucky one."

 

***

 

Daryl finally manages to get back into some semblance of productivity with his work and roughs three pages. He smiles as Jesus sings along with several songs, occasionally giving Daryl a little grin when he looks up. At 5:30pm, Jesus gives a big stretch, leaning back in his chair and then gets up and wanders over to the couch, where he flops down on it out of sight.

"Are you coming over here or what?" he calls to Daryl after a couple of minutes.

Daryl gets up, rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders and walks across the living room. He leans on the back of the couch and looks down at Jesus. He's lying with his left arm tucked under his head, staring up at Daryl with a sleepy smile.

"Hi handsome," he says.

"Oh, so it's fine when YOU want to fool around," Daryl tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

"Hey, one of us has to take the initiative and make sure some work gets done. Now, are you coming down here or do I have to drag you down?"

Daryl makes a face. "I don't think I want to n - "

He's cut off as Jesus leans up and grabs him by the front of his t-shirt and pulls him over the back of the couch. Jesus gives a yell when Daryl accidentally knees him in the crotch on his way down.

"That was a bad idea," Jesus laughs, grimacing in pain.

Daryl kisses him softly on the neck, running his hand down Jesus's side. "I'm sorry," he mutters making his way up to Jesus's jaw with his mouth, planting kisses and little licks. "I would kiss it better but..."

Jesus makes a surprised noise and grins at Daryl. "I'll hold you to that." He shifts and wraps his arms around Daryl, running a hand down his back as Daryl smiles into Jesus's neck, kissing and nipping. Jesus makes a pleased little hum. Daryl props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Jesus, bringing a hand up to brush through his brown hair.

"I can't believe I get to do this now," Daryl says, eyes taking in Jesus's face. Jesus runs his hand up to the back of Daryl's neck, stroking lazily.

"You're so fucking cute," Jesus says and takes Daryl's glasses off, something Daryl always seems to forget to do until they're getting in the way. "I mean, look at those eyes. How are those things even real?"

Daryl crosses them and Jesus laughs. He pulls Daryl down and they kiss slow and deep, Daryl settling on top of Jesus, one hand still in his hair, the other resting on Jesus's hip. They both know how this will end up because it happens every time: Their kisses will get hotter and more frenzied and one or both of them will break away before things get too heated, both not quite ready to take things to the next level of intimacy.

Jesus sighs into Daryl's mouth around his tongue, hands disappearing up Daryl's t-shirt to roam over his back, trace his sides with his fingers. Daryl breaks away from the kiss and runs his tongue down Jesus's throat, smiling at the vibration of the breathy chuckle Jesus makes as he does. Daryl's slides his right hand under Jesus's shirt and he shifts his hips so he can feel the soft skin of Jesus's stomach as he works his way back up Jesus's neck to his mouth; he swallows Jesus's soft moans as they kiss harder. Daryl doesn't think he'll ever get enough of touching Jesus; it's been so long since he's touched anyone this way and even then, he was so self-conscious and anxious, it was never as enjoyable as it should have been. But with Jesus, it feels right and amazing and Daryl finally feels like the person he's always wanted to be.

"Daryl," Jesus breaks the kiss after a while, huffing out a breathy warning and slides his hands out from under Daryl's t-shirt. Daryl makes a disappointed noise, missing the warmth of Jesus's hands on his skin already. Jesus gives a small laugh and moves his hands to Daryl's shoulders. "I know...I'm sorry but I need to..." He moves his body to the side and gives Daryl an embarrassed look as his erection brushes Daryl's leg under his jeans.

"It's okay," Daryl says, catching his own breath. He lets Jesus manoeuvre to the side and snuggles against him, snaking his arm across Jesus's chest. "I'm uh, not exactly not-excited myself..."

Jesus turns to him. "I'm sorry," he says and kisses Daryl softly on the mouth. "I'm still a little...I just want to feel totally ready before we do anything else and I don't want to get too, uh, riled up."

Daryl gives his head a little shake. "Don't apologize. To be honest, I'm...I'm terrified of doing anything beyond what we've been doing."

Jesus presses his forehead to Daryl's. "We'll figure it out," he says softly. "I want your first time to feel right."

Daryl strokes Jesus's neck. "I hope I'm not a disappointment..." he says quietly.

Jesus frowns. "Hey, don't even think that. I've only slept with two people and one of those was such a disaster I wish I could wipe it out and pretend it never happened. You're the only person I've ever been in love with so believe me, you won't be a disappointment."

Daryl swallows and nods. They kiss and Daryl rests his head in the crook of Jesus's shoulder. "Thanks Jesus."

Jesus kisses the top of Daryl's head and pulls him closer. "Is it okay if I stay here tonight?"

Jesus asks every time, regardless of Daryl's insistence that he doesn't need to. They've spent every night except one together since Vision-Con; Jesus felt like he should go back to his own apartment for a night at least. Daryl hadn't been able to sleep at all, missing Jesus's body lying beside him and had been amused and relieved when Jesus had called him at 2:30am asking if he could come back up because he couldn't sleep either.

Daryl smiles dopily up at him. "Of course it is." He kisses Jesus on the chin. "How do you feel about cEspinosai for dinner?"

Jesus nods and smiles. "I feel good about cEspinosai. I like having a boyfriend who cooks for me."

Daryl swats his arm but smiles back. Hearing Jesus call him his boyfriend always makes his stomach bloom with warmth. He untangles himself from Jesus and gets up, heading to the kitchen. Jesus heaves himself off of the couch and follows, getting a soda from the fridge.

"I'll pay for the groceries the next time we go to the store," he says, watching as Daryl rummages though a cupboard getting out sauce and spices, then walks over and smoothes down Daryl's mussed hair.

Daryl turns and gives him a crooked smile. "My groceries are your groceries."

Jesus puts a hand on Daryl's hip, pulling him close. "I'll make you a meatloaf," he says in a low husky voice and Daryl laughs loud and pushes him away.

Justice starts to play on Daryl's laptop in the other room and Jesus's eyes widen. "Oh no," he mutters.

Daryl looks alarmed. "What?"

Jesus grabs Daryl's hands. "I need to...I need to dance, like right now..." he gives Daryl a wicked grin and starts to pull him out of the kitchen. Daryl groans and plants his feet onto the floor.

"Tell you what, YOU dance and I'll watch."

Jesus lets go of Daryl's hand, starting to dance backwards into the living room. "Where's the fun in that?"

Daryl folds his arms and leans against the wall. "Believe me, I get a lot out of watching you dance."

Jesus raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Daryl gives him a knowing little smile. "Uh-huh."

Jesus dances his way over to Daryl. "Anything in particular you like especially?" He looks at Daryl through his long eyelashes and Daryl gives him a shy little laugh.

"I, uh, like the thing you do with your arms. The Eugeneot thing," he can feel his face go red as Jesus pops a few moves for him.

"I'll remember that," Jesus says with a smile that makes Daryl get excited all over again.

He watches as Jesus dances to the track, unable to tear his eyes away, dinner forgotten. Jesus seems to get better and more confident with his left arm every time he dances and Daryl can only watch in admiration as Jesus moves across the room. Jesus glances up with a grin, chewing his lip and makes his way back over to Daryl.

"You owe me a slow dance," he says, with mischievous eyes.

"Deal," Daryl says.

 

***

 

The next morning, Daryl gets an email from one of the guys at the comic book store. Jesus has just come back from a therapy session and is making a few notes in his journal before getting back to work himself. Michonne has sent him a couple of test pages to flat with notes on how she'd like the files set up.

Danny Rand (dan.rand@gmail.com)  
To: Daryl Dixon (Daryln_Dixon@gmail.com)

Hi Daryl,

I hope you don't me contacting you; my name's Dan and I work at Hyperion Comics - you kindly signed a bunch of books for us a little while back. I was wondering if you would be interested in doing a signing two weeks from now. We've set aside a Saturday and can start to publicise it ASAP if you think you'd like to. We'd make sure you'd have all the coffee and donuts you can eat/drink without throwing up and if you wanted to sell any prints, we won't ask for a cut. We can also order in any Winter Soldier variant covers and any other books you've worked on.

I hope you're interested because I know our customers would go nuts.

Thanks,

Dan

Daryl makes a worried noise and Jesus looks up, concerned. "What's up?"

Daryl leans back in his chair, brow furrowing, a knot of anxiety starting to form in his chest. "The comic book store wants to know if I'd like to do an official signing."

Jesus looks delighted. "That's awesome!"

"I don't know..."

"How different could it be to attending a convention? Just go for it."

Daryl shakes his head. "But at a con, I'm one of a hundred artists there. This is like...I'd feel really weird."

Jesus puts down his pen and leans across his desk. "You know, this could be really good for you. I bet you anything it'll go really well and you'll feel a hundred times more confident afterwards..."

Daryl sighs and shakes his head, unsure.

Jesus gets up and walks around the desks to Daryl. He kneels in front of him and takes his hands. "Just try it. I'll go with you."

Daryl looks down at him and wonders if he could love this guy any more. "You'd better. It's your fault this is happening," he says with a little smile.

Jesus shuffles forward between Daryl's legs, hands on Daryl's knees and leans up, brushing his lips softly. "Daryl, you'll be great. You have nothing to worry about."

Daryl gives him a shy little smile. "Have I told you how much I like it when you call me Daryl?"

Jesus grins. "No. Have I told you how much I like it when you call me Jesus?"

Daryl is about to answer when Jesus pulls him onto the floor. Daryl giggles as Jesus curls around him. "Whatever happened about making sure that work gets done?"

Jesus nuzzles Daryl's cheek. "Five minutes won't hurt."

Forty-five minutes later they finally get back to work.

 

***

 

Daryl emails Dan back and they arrange to talk tomorrow at the comic store. He lets out a nervous breath and sits back. It's done now. He's never done a signing on his own outside of a comic convention before and he's scared but maybe a little excited too. He knows having Jesus there will help.

He goes to the kitchen and makes two cups of coffee, setting one down on Jesus's desk and leaning against it. "Are you going to the VA tonight?" Daryl asks Jesus.

Jesus gives a nod. "Yeah, Abraham was pretty insistent that I don't miss anymore. Or as insistent as he can be. He was all like, "Don't miss another fuckin' meeting" and then closed his door on me."

Daryl laughs at Jesus's imitation of Abraham - it's pretty good. "I shouldn't laugh, he's actually been really good about everything."

Jesus nods in agreement. "I feel kind of bad for him. I don't think he has anybody. Or anyone that he hasn't pushed away. I kind of get that; I was almost there myself."

Daryl looks down, remembering how awful it was when Jesus was having his breakdown.

"Luckily for me, this dumbass that couldn't take the hint kept being all amazing and sexy and made me not want to run away," Jesus adds softly and Daryl looks up to see him smiling gratefully at him.

Daryl ducks his head. "I couldn't be sexy if I tried," he mumbles.

Jesus turns back to his laptop. "Tell that to my tent pole the next time we make out on the couch."

Daryl goes red straight away. "Jesus!"

 

***

 

Daryl waits with Jesus in the hallway that evening, playing Thumb War, Daryl annihilating Jesus every time. Jesus grabs Daryl's hand and looks at it.

"You must have some kind of mutant thumb or something to keep winning like that," he inspects it closely.

Daryl smirks. "Nope, just pure skill."

Jesus is about to demand a rematch when Abraham's door opens and he steps out. "Ready to go?" he says gruffly, locking his apartment.

"Yes sir," Jesus says respectfully and a little fearfully.

Abraham gives him a look. "Drop the sir crap." He strides off down the stairs. "Come on."

Jesus kisses Daryl quickly on the mouth. "See you later."

"Bye," Daryl says dreamily as he watches Jesus follow Abraham down the stairs. He still can't quite believe how things have turned out. He runs his hands through his hair and goes back inside to call Michonne.

"Let me guess: Jesus's out somewhere."

Daryl flusters. "Yeah, but that's not why I'm calling - "

Michonne gives a laugh. "Oh, I'm joking. I'm not offended; I'd rather know that the reason you don't call me as much is because you've got Jesus's tongue rammed down your throat."

"For fuck's sake, Michonne!" Daryl cries and blushes anyway.

Michonne howls with laughter. "If it wasn't easy to wind you up before, it's going to be a breeze now! Relax, Dixon. But seriously, everything's going okay?"

Daryl flips through his notes for issue 10 with a smile. "Yeah, it's going great. We're taking it slow. It's good."

"Okay, I won't pry anymore. Although it's all me and Rick can think about at the moment."

"Ew!!"

Michonne snorts. "Not like that; we want you two to be...y'know. Happy. Like, HAPPY."

"I'm sure we will be. Jesus's not really ready and god knows I'm scared to death..."

"Daryl - "

Daryl talks quickly. "Don't worry, we've talked about it. He knows I'm a...you know...that I haven't...had..."

Michonne makes a high-pitched noise. "You're damn so coy - it's adorable! What is this, 1945? Christ Daryl, you haven't had sex. SEX! SEX! You can say it!"

Daryl covers his face. "Please stop..."

"It'll all be fine and you'll be having lots of hot sex in no time."

"Okay, time for a subject change. I might be doing a signing in a couple of weeks at a comic store here."

Michonne makes a pleased noise. "Daryl, that's awesome! I didn't think that was something you'd want to do. Oh wait, let me guess: Jesus talked you into it."

Daryl wonders how Michonne always knows these things. "He outed me to the guys in the store a while back. And he kind of talked me into it..."

"If I'd had known that the only way to get you to do anything was to find a hot guy to bat his eyelashes at you, I would have tried to find one sooner."

"They said they wouldn't take a cut on any prints I sell so I can take some of the sci-fi prints and pimp your stuff too- "

Michonne clucks her tongue. "Okay, I can take the hint - no more hot guy talk. Thank you for the pimpage, which I accept. Oh, I spoke to Glenn quickly today; he's totally swamped with deadlines but he said to say hi to you and Jesus and he'll try and call you next week."

Daryl looks down at his to-do list. "Cool, I haven't really spoken to him since the con. Okay Michonne, I need to try and get some stuff finished while Jesus isn't here to distract me - "

"With his handsome face and roaming hands - "

" - so I will call you soon. We'll do a video chat and make Rick feel better."

"Yes please. He's starting to call me "dude" and "man" too much for my liking lately. Oh, I'm going to email you about that horror comic pitch for Spencer too."

They hang up and Daryl works quietly for a while, thinking about the comic store signing.

At about 8:30pm, he hears noises outside the front door - Jesus and Abraham in the hall - and gets up to let Jesus in, just as he knocks. He gives Daryl a hug but Daryl immediately knows something is up. Jesus doesn't look great; he's quiet and shuffles into the apartment, taking off his jacket and sneakers mechanically and sitting down on the couch without a word. Daryl sits down gently beside him.

"Everything okay, Jesus?" he asks softly.

Jesus shakes his head slightly.

Daryl thinks he knows what's wrong. "Did you talk about Tim?"

Jesus stiffens slightly and then nods. Daryl puts his arm around him and Jesus immediately leans in and hugs him hard. They sit for a little while.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Daryl asks gently.

"No," Jesus says and he sounds so small. Daryl rubs his arm.

"Wait here a sec," Daryl says and gets up. He shuts down his laptop and starts to turn off the lights. He takes Jesus's hand and pulls him up.

"Come on," he says softly. They go to the bedroom and get changed into their bed clothes. Daryl pulls Jesus into bed and turns off the light, shuffling up close to him and holding him, stroking his hair lightly. Jesus curls his arm around Daryl and buries his face in Daryl's shoulder.

"I'm sorry...I just can't..." he begins.

Daryl shakes his hand. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

He feels Jesus nod against him and continues to stroke his hair in the dark. Jesus's breath is hot on Daryl's neck and he wishes he could just take away all of his hurt. But it's never that easy.

After a while, Jesus leans up and kisses Daryl softly. "I love you, Daryl."

"I love you too," Daryl whispers.

 

***

 

Jesus is sat up reading when Daryl blinks awake, early morning light filtering through the window blinds. Daryl buries his face in Jesus's hip and Jesus runs a hand through Daryl's hair.

"Good morning," Jesus says softly.

Daryl makes a noise and looks up at him. "How are you feeling?"

Jesus gives a little shrug. "Okay. Thanks for last night. I'm sorry I was so...you know."

Daryl shakes his head and nuzzles into Jesus's side. "Don't apologize." He props himself up onto his elbow. "What are you reading?"

Jesus holds up Daryl's copy of Horns. "It's the guy who writes Locke & Key, right?"

Daryl nods, rubbing his eye. "Yeah, his books are really good. You should finish it."

Jesus puts the book down and slides back down onto his pillow, moving up against Daryl and kissing his lips softly. He strokes Daryl's face lightly with the back of his hand. "Why do you put up with me?"

Daryl gives him a little smile. "Because you're so awesome."

Jesus sighs. "But there's much of my shit to wade through..."

Daryl runs his hand down Jesus's back, tracing his spine lightly, feeling the straps that run across his back from his left arm. "Yeah well, I'm all in on this. You're worth it."

Jesus finally smiles.

 

***

 

They head to the comic book store after breakfast, Jesus brightening slightly as they walk down the block. Daryl hesitates slightly before they head into the store and Jesus turns and gives his hand a squeeze.

The two guys behind the counter look up and smile when they see Daryl and Jesus. The big guy comes around the counter and holds out his hand.

"Hey, Daryl. I'm Dan. Sorry it's taken me so long to actually introduce myself, given that you've been coming in here for so long."

Daryl shakes his hand. "It's okay. I never exactly said much. I'm kind of...shy, I guess." He gives a nervous laugh.

Dan smiles. "Don't worry about it. We're just glad you said yes to the signing. We really appreciate it." He turns to Jesus. "Sorry dude, I'm Dan."

Jesus shakes Dan's hand. "Jesus. This kind of my fault."

Dan laughs and the little guy comes over to them too. "This is Vic."

They all shake hands and head to the counter where Dan opens a notebook. "Well, if you're cool with the date, we can start getting some flyers made, put the word out on Twitter and Facebook and all that junk - Vic's the man for that."

Vic gives a grin. "I have a lot of connections."

Daryl nods, hands wringing slightly. "Yeah, that sounds great. I was thinking, I could maybe do an exclusive print for you guys?"

Dan and Vic immediately look excited. "That would be amazing. Something like that would be a huge draw for people." They talk about what they can order in, how long the signing will last and all the little details. Daryl starts to feel excited at last and gives Jesus a smile. Jesus nudges him.

Vic gives Jesus a look and then makes an I-Should-Have-Guessed gesture with his arms. "You're in the comic, aren't you? Winter Soldier, I mean."

Jesus grins. "Yeah. Different hair though."

Vic laughs. "That's so cool."

"One of the perks of having an artistic boyfriend," Jesus says and Daryl's face gets hot.

Dan gives an envious sigh. "Yeah, I often dream of meeting a comic artist who will want to draw me into all of their books..."

Vic snorts. "You have. You're just too scared to make a move on her." Vic turns to Jesus and Daryl. "There's an awesome local artist called Jess Drew whose self-published comic we sell and Dan is totally in love with her - "

"Vic, what the hell!" Dan cries, getting red himself.

"Well, you are!"

Dan punches him hard on the arm. "Don't you ever say anything when she comes in or I'll skin you and wear your damn face as a mask."

Daryl and Jesus crack up and Dan shakes his head. "Anyway, enough about me," he shoots Vic a death-stare, "I guess we're all set?"

Daryl nods. "I'll email you about the print. Let me know if you have any ideas and I can work up some thumbnails."

Vic nods enthusiastically. "This is going to be so cool. Thanks for doing this, Daryl."

Daryl smiles. "Well, I had to be talked into it."

Dan turns to Jesus. "Then thank YOU for being so pushy."

They say good-bye and Daryl and Jesus head home.

"How do you feel?" Jesus asks Daryl as they cross the street.

Daryl nods. "Good, I think. Nervous, but good nervous."

They reach their apartment building head straight up to Daryl's place. Daryl throws off his jacket and dumps his bag and sneakers by the door about to head over to his desk. Jesus grabs his hand and pulls him back. "Hey, come here."

He puts his arms around Daryl's neck and nuzzles Daryl's nose with his. Daryl slides his arms around Jesus.

"You okay?" Daryl asks softly.

Jesus rests his head on Daryl's shoulder. "Yeah. I just...talking about Tim with everyone last night. It was weird. No-one blamed me and...so many of them have gone through similar. But it still feels like..."

Daryl holds him tight. "I know."

Jesus sighs and it's so heavy and sorrowful. "I think I'm okay and then it just...hits me all over again." He starts to cry softly against Daryl.

Daryl can only hold him and tell him over and over that he loves him, no matter what.

 

***

 

They have their first real fight a few days later. Jesus comes back from a therapy session with Carol, frowning down at a letter. Daryl comes out of the kitchen and kisses him on the cheek.

"Everything alright?"

Jesus shakes his head. "I need to go back to the hospital in a few weeks. For my arm." He stalks over to his desk and sits down roughly. "I fucking hate this," he says and covers his eyes with his hand.

Daryl walks over and puts a hand on Jesus's shoulder. "I'll come with you."

Jesus is quiet for a moment. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Why not?" Daryl asks, slightly taken aback.

Jesus takes a breath. "You haven't seen me without this," he holds up his left arm. "I'm not ready for that, not by a long-shot and at the hospital, you'd see it and all the crap that hooks up and...I don't want you to see it and how it makes me...it's painful and I hate it and I don't want you there. I can barely put myself through all that shit and I don't want to put you through it."

"Jesus, I don't care about that. I'm not going to let you go on your own, not now that we're - "

"Daryl, I said no. I care about it." Jesus's eyes are hard. "You're not coming. I'm sorry, but you don't understand this. You really don't."

Daryl is silent for a minute before he speaks. He feels a pang of hurt that Jesus wouldn't want him there for something that's so important and that he couldn't understand how hard it is. He knows how hard it is for Jesus. "Fine." He walks back over to his desk.

Jesus sighs. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?" Daryl doesn't look up, hating himself for sulking but doing it anyway.

"Look, this isn't about you. It's about me and - "

"No, you're right. I don't understand. How could I ever understand?" His voice is harder than he means it to be.

Jesus frowns. "Why are you getting so mad? I don't want you to come because I don't want you to see me at my worst."

"I've already seen you at your worst. All I want to do is support you and you still don't trust me to - "

"This isn't about trust, Daryl. It's about me not wanting my boyfriend to see me with a fucking mangled arm, getting hooked up to shit and crying from the pain. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings but it's the one thing I'm really not ready to share with you." Jesus is getting angry and his voice rises.

"Yeah, well, I'd share it with you." Daryl feels like a prick as soon as it leaves his mouth but it's out and he already regrets saying it.

Jesus's face clouds over. "You asshole. How can you say that? You have no idea what it feels like. You can't..." he stops and gets up, storming over to the front door and Daryl's stomach flips.

"Jesus," Daryl stands up quickly. "I'm sorry - "

"Fuck you." Daryl can hear the hurt in his voice before he slams the door hard on his way out.

Daryl makes a frustrated yowl and kicks his trash can over, paper spraying everywhere. "Shit." He sits down, head in his hands. Why did he have to be such a dick about it? He should be the one person who stands by Jesus no matter what, not get butthurt when he can't be involved in every little thing. Daryl kicks the trash again can and it spins across the room into the kitchen door. He's not one to get petty about things but he went and acted like a little kid. He sits chewing his nails, feeling sick to his stomach. He's managed to hurt the one person he cares about more than anything, all because he assumed it was his right to be part of everything in his life. In time maybe, but not right now. He sits stewing and feeling like a total asshole for the better part of an hour.

Daryl finally heads down to Jesus's apartment, hoping that he's there, although he isn't sure where else Jesus would want to go, especially if he was upset. He knocks softly on the door, expecting no answer but it opens and Jesus stands there, face hard, his eyes red and Daryl sags a little.

"I'm such a prick," he says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Jesus swallows and looks down. "You can't fix everything, Daryl," he says, his voice uneven. "I just don't want you to see me like that...broken..."

Daryl throws his arms around Jesus. "I know, I'm sorry. I just want to be there for you. I won't go but I'll be here when you get back. I'll always be here."

Jesus hugs him back. "I want to show you, eventually. How I look without the prosthetic... I just can't right now. I hate it so much."

Daryl pulls back and kisses Jesus on his cheek, his eyebrows. "Whenever you're ready. Just say the word."

Jesus pulls Daryl inside and shuts the door. They kiss in the hallway and then make their way over to the couch. "Will you just lie with me for a while?" Jesus asks, eyes tired and wet.

Daryl nods and wipes a tear from Jesus's face. "As long as you want."

 

***

 

Jesus needs to do some laundry and clean his slightly neglected apartment, but kisses Daryl at the door and tells him he'll be up later.

"I'll make Chicken Teriyaki," Daryl promises and Jesus smiles, genuine and appreciative.

Daryl gets to the top of the stairs and sees Abraham unlocking his front door, about to go into his place with a bag of groceries in one hand. Daryl's never seen him out at this time before; he didn't even hear him as he left Jesus's apartment. Abraham gives him a nod as Daryl approaches his own door, face still twisted in his permanent scowl.

"Your boy okay?" he asks curtly.

"As okay as he can be," Daryl answers, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.

Abraham nods and opens his door, about to head in.

"Mr Ford," Daryl says quickly before he loses his nerve.

Abraham steps back into the hall, looking put out. "What?" he grunts.

"Thank you. For what you've done for Jesus." Daryl stands, expecting another grunt and a slammed door but Abraham just looks at him and puts a hand against his door frame.

"Isn't much."

Daryl shifts on his feet. "It's more than you think."

Abraham's face doesn't change but he doesn't move from his door either, he just stands and considers Daryl for a moment.

Oh, what the hell, Daryl thinks. "Um, if you ever wanted to come over, just for a beer or something..."

To Daryl's surprise, Abraham's face softens. Not by much, but enough. It makes him look slightly younger and less like he might pounce and tear something to shreds at any given moment.

"Thanks kid," he says softly and his voice has an edge of sorrow to it, "but I'm not very good company." He goes inside his apartment and closes the door without slamming it.

Daryl feels a lump rise in his throat, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sadness for Abraham Ford. That could have been Jesus, he thinks. Maybe not right now but in a few years time when the self-hatred had enough time to take hold and sink bone deep; blaming himself for mistakes he had no control over, shutting himself down as a person and rotting away from the inside out. He stands in the hallway for a while before heading back inside.

 

***

 

Jesus comes up after 6pm, tired and handsy, hugging Daryl from behind as he makes dinner and generally making a nuisance of himself, the argument earlier forgiven and forgotten by Jesus, but still burning Daryl with guilt. They eat dinner whilst listening to music, Jesus rubbing Daryl's foot with his own throughout. Daryl takes the dishes out to the kitchen afterwards and starts to rinse them.

"Hey," Jesus is stood in the doorway, watching Daryl.

Daryl turns and puts the plate he'd been holding in the sink. "Yeah?"

"You owe me a slow dance, remember?" He holds his hand out.

Daryl smiles shyly. "Right now?"

"Right now." Jesus pulls him into the living room.

Daryl listens to the music. "Black Hole Sun? Not too depressing?"

Jesus shakes his head and puts his arms around Daryl's neck. Daryl puts his hands on Jesus's hips and starts to move with him, faces close.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Daryl whispers.

Jesus holds him closer. "It's okay. It's done with."

Daryl nods and rests his head on Jesus's shoulder, closing his eyes and taking in everything about him; his smell, the way he sways, his breath against Daryl's neck. I don't ever want to be apart from you, Daryl thinks. He presses his mouth to Jesus's ear.

"I love you so much," he says quietly, his voice breaking.

Jesus gently brings his hands up to either side of Daryl's face and makes Daryl look at him. Daryl rests his hand on Jesus left and strokes the fingers, even though he knows that Jesus can't feel it. Jesus just looks at him with those huge eyes and smiles at Daryl like he's the only thing that exists in the world.

 

***

 

For the next week, they both work hard - Daryl on his comic pages and the print for the comic store signing (they agreed on an exclusive Winter Soldier print, coloured by Michonne) - and Jesus on his test pages for the Winter Soldier flats. He's been scribbling furiously in one of his therapy journals too whenever he's not working on his laptop. Daryl wonders what he's writing but doesn't ask.

They still haven't progressed beyond kissing and some (dubiously innocuous) touching, both still hesitant to take the next step but Daryl is starting to feel slightly bolder and more confident when they're together, his insecurities finally weakening piece by piece. Jesus still has his limits and Daryl is more than happy to wait, testing out his own.

Jesus wakes up particularly playful on Wednesday morning, sending Daryl into screeching fits when he starts to tickle his feet, pinning him down with surprising strength. The tickling evolves into a furious bout of kissing and frenzied touching that has them both flushed and needing a cold shower each by the end of it when one of them, they can't remember which, finally manages to pull away.

"There's that tent pole I mentioned," Jesus gasps with a smile as Daryl turns even redder and heads to the bathroom.

They set a Skype call for that evening with Rick and Michonne. Jesus tags along with Daryl to the printers to pick up his artwork for the signing on Saturday and gets carried away at the art store, trying to sneak kisses whenever he can behind shelves full of sketchpads or paint display stands.

"What is with you today?" Daryl exclaims, half amused, half annoyed as Jesus pulls him behind a stack of canvases and starts to kiss and lick gently at Daryl's neck.

"What, I'm not allowed to give my sexy as hell boyfriend a hickie in public?" He starts to suck lightly at Daryl's neck under the collar of his t-shirt.

Daryl starts to give in. "You'll give me more than a hickie if you keep doing that..." he breathes as he unconsciously grabs at Jesus's hair. He jumps a mile when he hears someone clear their throat. An old lady holding several pots of poster paint looks at them both with wide eyes. Daryl turns beet red and stumbles off to pay for his Bristol Board and markers.

He hears Jesus say, "Ma'am," politely to the woman before he runs after Daryl laughing hysterically.

"I'm glad you found that funny," Daryl says mortified.

Jesus throws an arm around Daryl's neck. "We just gave her the thrill of her life. She'll be telling that story for weeks."

When they get back to Daryl's after lunch, Jesus convinces him to take the rest of the day off. "Come on, Daryl. All we've done is work. Let's just have one day to ourselves." He makes his pouty face which shouldn't work on Daryl by now but always does.

Daryl runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Okay, fine. A day off would be good, I guess. Do you want to play Mario Kart?"

"I was thinking maybe a board game..."

"I don't have any board games."

"How about Battleship?" Jesus gives Daryl a blinding smile.

"The last time we played Battleship, YOU cheated," Daryl punches him on the shoulder.

Jesus looks mock offended. "Only on the first round. Then I was good."

Daryl sighs and leaps over the back of the couch. "Fine, okay. Go and get Battleship."

Jesus makes a squeak of joy and runs out of the apartment. Daryl can't help but smile - Jesus's happiness is always infectious. He puts his feet up on the coffee table. He can hear Jesus running back up the stairs and his front door closes. Jesus scrambles over the back of the couch, almost kicking Daryl in the face.

"Jesus, calm down! It's only Battleship."

Jesus makes a face that instantly has Daryl suspicious. "What?" he says warily.

"How about we mix it up a little?" Jesus is grinning like an idiot.

Daryl holds up his hands. "How do you mix up Battleship?"

"How about Strip Battleship?"

"What?! No!"

"Come on, Daryl. It'll be fun! We'll keep it clean, I promise." Jesus leans across the couch and drapes himself across Daryl. "Please? No further than boxers."

Daryl tries to shake him off. "We've already seen each other in our underwear; why do you - "

Jesus smooshes his face against Daryl's. "Please please please please please..."

"Okay, okay! Now get off of me..." he throws Jesus off and gives a little sigh. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Jesus gives a victorious snigger and starts to set up the grids.

"You'd better not cheat. I mean it, Jesus. I don't want to be sat here in my skivvies while you're still fully dressed."

"Daryl, I promise you, I will not cheat." He makes the Boy Scout salute and gives Daryl an earnest smile. Daryl finally cracks and smiles back and sets up his own grid, shaking his head.

"Okay," Jesus says as soon as things are done. "I guess every hit on a ship is an item of clothing."

Daryl nods and makes a face, shuffling closer to the boards.

Jesus leans over and gives Daryl a soft kiss on the mouth. "I know that look; you don't have any reason to be self-conscious. Not with me."

Daryl nods. "I know, I just still feel a little..." he doesn't quite know how to finish.

Jesus rubs his face against Daryl's. "Believe me, Daryl - you have a great body."

Daryl blushes and smiles. "Yeah, well you're pretty fucking hot yourself..." he mumbles and Jesus laughs. He scrambles back to the other end of the couch.

"Okay, D6."

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later and Jesus is sat in his boxers and one sock, looking confused while Daryl laughs, still in his jeans and t-shirt, barefoot, only having taken two hits.

"Okay, since when did you get so good at Battleship?" He gives Daryl a look.

Daryl gives him an exaggerated shrug and a huge wide-eyed smile. "I don't know. Weird, huh?"

Jesus narrows his eyes. "Don't get cocky."

Daryl looks down at the board and smirks. "You're the one who's getting cocky..."

Jesus throws his shirt at Daryl's face. "F7."

"Hit. Do my glasses count?" Daryl starts to take them off.

"No, they don't fucking count!" Jesus cries.

Daryl laughs. "Okay, okay." He takes off his t-shirt and drops it on the floor. "Happy?"

Jesus's mouth quirks in a little smile as his eyes flit down to Daryl's torso. "Very."

Daryl looks at his grid. It's getting very warm in here all of a sudden. "Uh, J5."

Jesus howls. "Hit! What the actual fuck?"

Daryl shouts in victory. "YES! I WON! Ha ha haaaa!"

Jesus resentfully takes off his remaining sock. "You know, you're a real sore winner."

Daryl leans back, a huge grin on his face. "Well, I don't win very often."

Jesus finally smiles back and starts to take the pegs out of his grid, ready to put everything away. Daryl reaches out and stops him. "You get an extra turn," he says, his eyes bright.

Jesus raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? How come?"

"Because I won and I said so."

Jesus leans back. "Okay," he says, eyes never leaving Daryl's. "B3."

Daryl doesn't even look at his board. "Hit," he says and stands up. He takes his jeans off, kicking them away, feeling not as sexy as he'd like to in his boxer shorts, but the look on Jesus's face makes him feel slightly more confident. Jesus watches him, his eyes fixed on Daryl's as he moves the Battleship grids onto the table and crawls over Jesus as he slides down to lie on the couch.

"You sunk my Battleship," Daryl says huskily and Jesus reaches up to grab the back of Daryl's neck and pull him down into a hungry kiss, hands roaming Daryl's back and sides, his thumbs tracing lightly along his stomach. Jesus rests a hand in the small of Daryl's back and pulls him closer. Daryl flinches as their bodies press together, conscious that he's already getting hard and tries to twist away. Jesus grabs Daryl by the hips and holds him in place, legs shifting so Daryl is resting between his thighs. Daryl breaks the kiss to look down at him.

Jesus is breathing heavily and he gives Daryl a faint smile. "It's okay," he gasps and Daryl can feel how hard Jesus is against him too through their underwear. Everything suddenly seems very bright.

Daryl nods and kisses Jesus softly. "I'm scared," he says, voice barely a whisper.

Jesus presses his forehead to Daryl's and gently starts to move his hips against him. "You don't have to be scared."

Daryl buries his face in Jesus's neck as he moves his own hips slowly, not quite prepared for how good it feels.

"Shit," Daryl whispers and grabs a handful of Jesus's hair. Jesus makes a little moan and runs his hands down Daryl's hips, fingers trailing under the waistband of his boxer shorts and -

\- the fire alarm goes off. It takes a minute for them both to register the piercing wail echoing throughout the building and Daryl slumps against Jesus with a frustrated groan.

"You are fucking kidding me," Jesus shouts at no-one in particular.

 

***

 

Apparently, Mrs Hernadez had put a pot roast in her oven and forgot about it, not hearing the oven timer because she's almost completely deaf, hardly even noticing the smoke until the fire fighters broke her door down.

Daryl and Jesus stand outside across the street, after hastily getting dressed and using the fire escape, which was kind of exciting, and joining most of the other tenants over by the building opposite. They watch the fire fighters milling about, trying to ignore Mr Hargensen's braying complaints.

"That guy is such a dick," Daryl mutters.

Jesus leans his head against Daryl's shoulder. "When do you think we'll be able to go back inside?"

Daryl puts his arm around Jesus's waist. "Soon, I hope."

"Kind of killed the moment..." Jesus mutters.

Daryl laughs quietly. "Yeah." He glances across the street and sees Abraham Ford smoking a cigar at the corner of the building alone. He catches his eye and holds his hand up. Abraham nods and turns away.

 

***

 

They get back into the building an hour and a half later, having given up on waiting and going for noodles.

Daryl looks at his phone. "We'll be talking to Michonne and Rick in about fifteen minutes."

Jesus presses himself to Daryl's back and wraps his hands around his waist, resting his head on Daryl's shoulder. "Another time, I guess," he says softly into Daryl's ear.

Daryl nods and turns around in Jesus's arms, a sly grin on his face. "Strip Battleship was actually kind of cool."

Jesus bites his lip. "Strip Battleship was actually kind of hot."

They both giggle softly and Daryl heads to his desk to grab his laptop and bring it to the couch. Jesus flops beside him and they squabble about The Official Strip Battleship rules for next time.

Jesus shuffles closer to Daryl when Skype starts to bloop, the laptop resting on Daryl's knees.

"Hi guys," Daryl says when he sees Michonne and Rick sat on their own couch.

Rick makes sexual noises and grabs the laptop, pressing his tongue to the camera.

"Ew, Rick no!" Michonne cries and there's a lot of shuffling and wobbling on the other end. Daryl and Jesus start to laugh. When Michonne wrenches the laptop away from Rick, the image is blurry.

"But I want to give them some tongue," Rick says and Michonne wipes down the camera with her sleeve.

"Thanks Rick. I'll take that tongue," Jesus says as they come into focus again, Michonne looking annoyed.

"I knew there was something between us," Rick replies and waggles his eyebrows.

Michonne finally gives a smile. "Look at you guys and how cute you are." Daryl and Jesus press their heads together and make faces.

Rick looks forlorn. "You guys have no idea how depressed I've been since the con, - " Michonne rolls her eyes and holds up a hand - "I had the best time and now real life is dull and disappointing."

"Well gee, thanks, honey." Michonne shoots him a look.

Clink quickly kisses her cheek. "Except for you and your Baked Alaska."

Daryl strokes the camera on his laptop. "Aw, poor Rick."

Rick quickly stands up and presses his groin to the screen. "That's the stuff."

Jesus breaks into gales of laughter and Michonne makes Rick sit down and promise to behave for two minutes.

They all talk for a while about work and comics, then Jesus and Rick get into an argument about how the timeline in The TermiMichonneor movies is screwed until Michonne and Daryl get bored and Michonne steps in and makes them stop.

"Oh Jesus, I meant to say - your flats on the test pages are awesome. You nailed it."

Jesus brightens. "Yeah?"

"Yep. So what do you say? Be my new flatter?"

Jesus turns to Daryl. Daryl gives him a big smile.

"Okay. I won't let you down, Michonne." Jesus makes an embarrassed noise when they all clap and cheer. Daryl kisses him on the mouth and Michonne and Rick start cheering even harder.

Rick fans himself with a hand. "Oh my."

"I'm trying to stay on here and talk to you guys as long as possible because Rick has decided that Wednesday night is now Board Game Night and he's convinced me to play some...thing..."

"Settlers of Catan will change your life," Rick plants a wet kiss on Michonne's cheek and she pulls away with a grimace.

"Oh, we played a board game today..." Jesus says with a playful grin.

"No! No we didn't!" Daryl says too quickly and too forcibly and Michonne and Rick immediately stand to attention.

"We did, we played - " Daryl lunges at Jesus and covers his mouth with his hand. Jesus struggles to get away, laughing into Daryl's palm, the laptop rocking wildly on Daryl's knees. "We played Str- " Jesus manages before Daryl mashes his hand against his face again.

"No we didn't!"

Michonne bounces up and down excitedly. "Oh my god, what did you do? Daryl's gone so red!"

"Don't tell them, they'll never let me forget it!"

Rick starts to shout. "Come on Jesus! Fight him off! Tell us!"

Jesus finally manages to escape Daryl's frantic grasps and he grabs the laptop before it slides onto the floor. "We played Strip Battleship!"

Michonne and Rick go berserk and Daryl slithers down the couch with his face in his hands.

"You dirty little bastards," Rick says with a huge smile.

Michonne collapses against the back of her couch, roaring with laughter. "And during the day too! Dixon, you dog!"

Rick starts to sing Afternoon Delight. "Gonna find my baby, gonna hold him tight, gonna grab some afternoon delight..."

"There was no afternoon delight...I hate you all," Daryl shouts from behind his hands.

"Oh my god, I need more information," Michonne says, eyes wide.

Jesus gives her an apologetic smile. "Sorry Michonne, the rest is between me and Daryl's skivvies."

Michonne whines in disappointment. "Fine. But next time Captain Dixon is in town, I'm getting all the dirty details."

"I'm now trying to figure out a way that Settlers Of Catan can become Strip Settlers Of Catan..." Rick considers.

"You'll be the only one stripping," Michonne says with a raised eyebrow.

Daryl finally lowers his hands. "Okay, well as always, it was great talking to you guys and feeling embarrassment beyond belief. I need to hang up and have STRONG WORDS with my boyfriend who will be lucky to ever see me in my skivvies again." He glares at Jesus.

Michonne and Rick laugh and make "ooohhhh" noises.

"Oh Daryl, wait! Your comic store signing - is it on Saturday?" Michonne says before Daryl can hang up.

"Yeah and I'm shitting myself about it."

"You'll be fine, dude. Good luck." Rick gives a wave to the camera.

"Look after him, Jesus," Michonne says and they all wave and make stupid noises until Daryl finally hangs up.

He puts the laptop on the table and turns to Jesus, about to rip him a new one for telling Michonne and Rick about Strip Battleship when Jesus scrambles across the couch and pins Daryl down, kissing him.

"Before you get mad," he says, speaking fast before Daryl get one word in, "I'm just going to remind you why you love me so much. I'm funny and cute and I can cook meatloaf and you like it when I dance and you think it's adorable that I like Watchmen so much and that I've already read it six times and I didn't get mad that they changed the ending for the movie and you like that I get so excited when I see GIFs of Red Pandas on Tumblr and I've almost learnt the entire opening monologue from Conan The Barbarian just to prove how much I love you and as much as you want to deny it you get secretly turned on when I smell like cinnamon - "

Daryl is laughing so hard at this point, that he can't be mad at Jesus. "Oh, shut the hell up, you moron." He pulls Jesus down and shuts him up some more.

 

***

 

Jesus returns from his VA meeting on Thursday in better spirits than the previous week.

"I talked a little. It's still difficult but it's getting kind of easier." He continues to write in his journal.

Daryl's signing on Saturday is from 11am - 3pm and Dan gives Daryl details about using the back entrance into the comic store.

"I've got a feeling that a lot of people are going to turn up and I think it'll be better if you come in through the back if there's a line outside." He called Daryl Friday morning just to finalise everything. "We wouldn't want you to get mobbed!"

Daryl's stomach had turned when he said that and Jesus had spent the better part of an hour after the call trying to calm Daryl down.

"You'll be fine. I'll be there and Dan and Vic seem to know what they're doing. Just try and enjoy it, okay?"

On Saturday, Daryl gets all of his stuff ready, getting up stupidly early, too nervous to stay in bed. He makes sure he's got enough prints and paper for sketches, laying everything out on his desk and double checking. He glances up when Jesus comes out of the bedroom, hair messy and sleepy-eyed in Daryl's favourite Metal Gear Solid t-shirt and his boxer shorts.

"What are you doing? It's only seven forty-five." He stumbles over to Daryl and hugs him, resting his chin on Daryl's shoulder and groaning tiredly.

"I was too nervous to sleep," Daryl says, putting a hand on Jesus's hip and turning him so he can count how many blank sketch covers of Winter Soldier he has. Jesus puts his hands on Daryl's shoulders and moves him away from the desk.

"Daryl, you're going to be fine. It's not some life or death thing, it's a signing at a comic book store and you're going to kill it. Okay?" Jesus gives him a crooked little grin, his eyes sincere. Daryl feels such a swell of love for Jesus at that moment, he can barely even respond. I could do anything for this guy, he thinks to himself. I WOULD do anything for this guy. He wants to tell Jesus how he's managed to dull the pain of everything bad anyone has ever said to him in high school or college, every black eye and punch to the gut, every time he was ever ignored or made to feel like a nobody. But it's too much for Daryl to even try and put into words.

"What?" Jesus asks, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

Daryl just shakes his head and hugs Jesus back. "I'll tell you some other time."

 

***

 

Vic lets them in through the back of the store, chattering excitedly. "There's already a huge line outside!"

Daryl gives a nervous smile and Jesus squeezes his shoulder.

"I'm going to do a coffee run before we get you started. What can I get you? No, no - we're buying all day," he says when Daryl tries to give him some money.

"Thanks so much. Um, I'll have a latte, I guess?"

Vic turns to Jesus. "What'll you have?"

"Do they do green tea or anything?"

Vic gives Jesus a smile. "Ever had chai latte? If not, I highly recommend it."

Jesus grins. "Okay, I'll give it a go."

Vic leads them into the store and heads out to the coffee place. A few customers not there for the signing are milling about and Dan comes out from behind the counter.

"Hey guys! Okay, the line outside is looking really good. I think we're going to have a busy day. Are you good to start in fifteen minutes?"

Daryl nods and Dan brings him over to the table they've set up. It looks really good, with all of Daryl's books he's worked on for the last couple of years and a space for his prints. Daryl lets out a breath and starts to pull his stuff out of his bag.

Jesus heads over to the front door and wanders outside, walking briskly back in with an excited look on his face a few seconds later.

"Holy shit, the line is around the block!"

Daryl makes a desperate noise and Jesus steps close. "I'm here. You'll be fine."

Daryl nods and gives him a tight little smile. Vic comes back in with coffee and donuts.

Jesus takes one mouthful of his drink and makes a noise. He leans down beside Daryl, sat at the signing table and nervously flexing his drawing hand. "Hey, kiss me."

Daryl looks distracted. "Jesus, I'm kind of - "

Jesus quickly kisses Daryl on the lips and leans away, watching as Daryl finally gives a genuine smile. "Cinnamon," he says slightly dreamily.

The signing goes phenomenally well; Daryl finally relaxes and signs comics, chatting easily to people and doing quick sketches. Jesus stands close to the table and Daryl for the most part, talking to Vic and Dan when they break away from the main counter. A few people recognise him from his comic character and insist on photos with him and Daryl. The store thrums with people for the next few hours and Daryl finally has to admit that this was a good idea. He can lose himself in a sea of people at comic cons, but to have people turn up just for him and his work has given him a boost of self-confidence that's been a long time coming. He glances up from a sketch at one point and catches Jesus's eye. Jesus gives him an everything-okay look and Daryl smiles at him, happy and thankful.

Things finally wind down at about 2:30pm and Daryl stretches and stands up. Dan heads over and offers Daryl a bottle of water.

Jesus is behind the counter with Vic talking about his flatting work.

"Well, I think we can consider this a success," Dan says to Daryl with a huge grin. "Thank you again - we've had one of our best days ever."

Daryl rubs his neck and smiles. "I've had a really good time. Thanks for having me."

"Hey, we were wondering - the store closes at four-thirty today and me and Vic would like to get you guys dinner, just as another thank you. It's been awesome to hang out with you and Jesus's been really cool helping us out with stuff too." Dan waves away Daryl's protests to pay for dinner and he finally accepts.

Dan heads out to the back room to sort out some paperwork and Vic starts to gather up the few remaining books on the signing table. Jesus joins Daryl behind the counter.

"So, how was your first signing?"

Daryl can't keep the smile off of his face. "It was awesome. I think I needed something like this."

Jesus leans in and kisses the corner of Daryl's mouth. "Told you," he says quietly.

Daryl takes Jesus's hand. "Thank you. For being here."

Jesus smiles. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Dan comes back and leans against the counter with a tired sigh. "What a day."

Vic puts down the stack of books next to the cash register and slumps next to Dan. "I want beer," he mumbles.

Daryl shuffles in his messenger bag and pulls out two comics. "I, uh, these are for you guys. Just as a thank you for everything." He hands them each a Winter Soldier sketch cover drawn especially.

Dan looks shocked. "Oh dude, that's so awesome."

"This is amazing," Vic says excitedly, looking at his sketch cover. "I'm so getting this framed!"

They hang out and talk until closing and then head to the noodle place which Dan and Vic also like. They discover that Dan is writing a sci-fi novel when he isn't working at the comic book store and Vic has a YouTube comedy channel with his friend Pete which he's way too modest about. They're both really funny and surprisingly self-deprecating and Daryl finds himself identifying with Vic especially, who had a rough time at school because of his size and his lisp.

"We should do this again," Dan says as they all leave and stand outside, Daryl and Jesus agreeing.

"Yeah, we can get a bit too wrapped up in work sometimes and forget about socialising - " Daryl begins.

Jesus nudges him. "I'm the one who usually has to make you stop working and take a break. Maybe we could have a beer and video games night?"

Dan and Vic jump at the chance and Daryl says they'll arrange something next time he and Jesus come to the store. They say good-bye, heading in opposite directions and Jesus slips his hand into Daryl's as they walk home. Daryl can't stop smiling.

 

***

 

It's 8:30pm by the time they get back and Daryl toes off his sneakers with a tired groan and heads over to the couch, leaving his jacket on the floor. Jesus follows and grabs Daryl by his belt and pulls him back before he can sit down. Daryl giggles as he stumbles into Jesus and turns to face him.

"I had a really great day," he smiles giddily and rubs his face against Jesus's, content.

Jesus makes a happy noise and runs his hands up Daryl's sides. "I'm so proud of you. You're pretty amazing - have I told you that recently?"

Daryl chuckles and lets Jesus lead him over to the couch. "Yeah, once or twice."

Jesus pulls him down and they lie next to each other, smiling like idiots.

"I couldn't have done it today without you," Daryl nuzzles Jesus's neck and huffs happily.

Jesus smiles dopily as Daryl kisses his way up Jesus's throat to his mouth. "You just needed a friendly kick up the ass," he says and takes off Daryl's glasses. He kisses Daryl softly on the lips, brushing lightly and Daryl gives a quiet sigh. He puts his hand on Jesus's hip and shuffles closer, not wanting any wasted space between them. Jesus slides his arm around Daryl's back and they start to kiss deeper, more insistently, legs intertwining.

Somewhere along the line, they lose themselves a little, kisses becoming more desperate, hands unable to stay in any one place, both gasping and panting. Jesus rolls Daryl onto his back and straddles him, pulling his t-shirt over his head and off, throwing it casually behind the couch. Daryl gazes up at him, eye's half-lidded, a small smile on his face.

"What are you looking at?" Jesus breathes, with a little grin. Daryl leans up and kisses Jesus again, breaking away for a second and raising his arms when Jesus pulls up his own t-shirt, taking it off and throwing it over towards the TV somewhere, leaning back in as Jesus bites at his neck, running his hands over Daryl's chest, slowly grinding into Daryl with his hips. Daryl's heart is pounding as they start to kiss frantically again, knowing that this is it, that it's finally going to happen.

He pulls away from Jesus and meets his eyes, breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" Jesus strokes Daryl's hair, panting.

Daryl nods. "I want to sleep with you," he gasps softly.

Jesus presses his forehead to Daryl's. "Me too."

Daryl can only nod.

Jesus kisses him softly again. "Come on."

They get up and head to the bedroom, Daryl swallowing hard, freezing slightly as Jesus takes his own jeans off and looks at him. He strokes Daryl's face.

"It's okay," he whispers and starts to undo Daryl's belt. Daryl nods, letting Jesus kiss him softly on his cheeks, his brow, behind his ear, as he lets his jeans drop and steps back. His breathing sounds so loud. His hand trembles as he brushes it through Jesus's hair.

"I'm sorry...I'm just..."

Jesus quiets him with a kiss, soft and reassuring. "I know."

They get into bed and Jesus takes off his boxers, dropping them on the floor. After a beat, Daryl takes his own off and Jesus moves over to him, pulling him close and kissing him softly. Daryl gasps as their bodies press together, running his hand down Jesus's side. He buries his face in Jesus's shoulder.

"I love you," he whispers into Jesus's ear.

Jesus gently turns Daryl to face him. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

And it happens, slowly and sweetly; Jesus telling Daryl how much he loves him over and over as they explore each other, taste each other; Daryl forgetting everything as Jesus kisses his stomach, trailing his tongue down, smiling as Daryl makes a noise he didn't even know he could make.

And later, Daryl tells Jesus how much he loves him, over and over as he moves inside him, Jesus not taking his eyes off of Daryl's as they breathe together. Jesus brings a hand up to the back of Daryl's head, stroking gently and feeling how damp the nape of Daryl's neck is, captivated by how Daryl looks making love to him for the first time.

And all Daryl can do is stare down at this boy who saved his life as much as he saved his.

 

***

 

They lie together, sweaty and slightly giggly afterwards. Jesus curls against Daryl and kisses his neck, tasting salt and something else that is very distinctively Daryl.

"So, how do you feel?" he asks, brushing Daryl's hair away off his forehead.

Daryl gives a tired little smile. "Okay, I guess." He laughs as Jesus pokes him in the belly.

"Just okay?"

Daryl pulls Jesus into him and kisses him lazily. "I feel...amazing. You feel amazing." He runs a hand down Jesus's back, trying to think if there will be a time that he'll ever get fed up of how good he feels lying naked next to him.

Jesus smiles, eyes tired but happy. "I can't believe I got to be your first."

Daryl traces Jesus's eyebrows with a finger. "It was worth the wait."

Jesus's eyes start to drift shut as Daryl runs a hand through Jesus's damp hair. "I hate to break the mood," Daryl says and Jesus opens his eyes again, "but maybe we should have a shower."

Jesus groans and nuzzles closer to Daryl. "We're fine. What's a little stickiness between boyfriends?"

"As much as I love the idea of waking up stuck to you, we really should," Daryl says with a laugh.

Jesus groans again and rolls away, getting unsteadily to his feet. "Whoa, head-rush." He leans against Daryl as they walk to the bathroom. "I think you fucked me completely off-balance."

He laughs as Daryl makes an embarrassed noise and flushes from the chest up. "Daryl, we just had sex and we're both naked and about to have a shower together. How are you STILL managing to blush?"

Daryl starts the water running. "I can't help it," he whines and Jesus gives him a little shove.

"You're so cute."

"Get in the damn shower," Daryl grumbles.

They stand under the warm spray together and Daryl turns Jesus around and washes his hair, dragging his fingers along Jesus's scalp and making him groan.

"You have no idea how good that feels," Jesus murmurs, eyes closed, swaying slightly.

"Well, you can do me after and I'll find out."

Jesus snickers. "Oh, I plan on doing you alright." Daryl gives his hair a yank. "Not right now, obviously..."

Jesus washes Daryl's hair, enjoying the way he leans back and smiles, making a little humming noise.

"Good, right?" Jesus rakes his fingers gently down the back of Daryl's neck.

"Hmmm, do it some more."

They finally get out, tired but clean and Jesus insists on drying Daryl's hair for him, scrubbing vigorously with the towel and laughing as it sticks up every which way. Daryl just smiles, eyes dozy, watching as Jesus dries his own hair and carefully dries his left arm. Daryl steps forward and uses his towel to help dry the straps that run across Jesus's back.

Jesus looks grateful and a little sad. "I wish you could touch me without this thing on."

Daryl kisses his left arm. "With or without, it wouldn't stop me from touching you."

Daryl puts his usual t-shirt and bed boxers on while Jesus just opts for pyjama pants, crawling back into bed. Daryl turns off the lamp and snuggles beside him, enjoying how clean he smells. Jesus kisses Daryl gently on the temple.

"Are you going to tell Michonne?" he asks.

Daryl gives his head a small shake. "I don't have to."

"You tell her everything. You know they'll both want to hear about it." Jesus gives a little laugh.

"Because they're pervs," Daryl murmurs. "I'll tell them tomorrow..."

"Well, make sure you tell them that I think you're pretty incredible in the sack..."

Daryl chuckles. "I might tell them that..."

"...and that you're hung like a - "

"No, I won't be telling them that."

 

***

 

They don't get very much done on Sunday, Jesus not having to convince Daryl very hard to take a day off.

"You know this is kind of unfair if this is going to be your go-to method for getting your own way," Daryl gasps after Jesus disappears under the covers with an evil grin.

They finally emerge from the bedroom at 3pm, tired and aching but unable to stop smiling at each other. Daryl orders pizza and flops onto the couch with a groan, checking his phone for messages. There's a text from Michonne sent at 11:26am. Jesus nudges him over and stretches out beside him reading Horns.

MICHONNE: So how did the signing go?

DARYL: Sorry for the late reply. It was amazing. I think I really needed something like that for my confidence

Michonne replies two minutes later.

MICHONNE: Awesome! So Hot Boyfriend is a very good influence on you

DARYL: Yes, he is :)

MICHONNE: I'm so glad you had a good day

DARYL: Yes it was very eventful in many ways...

MICHONNE: Meaning...?

DARYL: Um...

MICHONNE: OH MY GOD DID YOU DO IT

DARYL: Yes :P

MICHONNE: HOLY SHIT! And????

DARYL: It was incredible

MICHONNE: Can you hear me screaming? Because I just screamed really loudly

DARYL: Some car alarms just went off and a dog started barking

MICHONNE: Rick wants to know who topped

DARYL: You're not getting anything else from me, least of all that

MICHONNE: We both think it was Jesus

DARYL: Why??

MICHONNE: Well, it makes sense

DARYL: WTF why?!!!

MICHONNE: So obvious. He totally tops

DARYL: Okay well FYI we both have

MICHONNE: OH MY GOD I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D CRACK SO EASILY

DARYL: Oh, get fucked

MICHONNE: Sounds like you're doing enough of that for everyone

Daryl groans and throws his phone on the table.

"You told Michonne," Jesus says with a smile.

"Yes and as always, wish I hadn't." Daryl rubs his hand across Jesus's stomach. "Want to watch a movie while we eat?"

Jesus puts his book down. "Yeah, I've had a hankering to watch An American Werewolf In London actually."

Daryl kisses him. "Cool. Want to grab some drinks and plates? Pizza should be here soon." Daryl heads over to his DVDs and finds the movie while Jesus goes into the kitchen. He comes back and puts plates and two beers on the table as well as a couple of bags of chips.

"I have to go to Boston on Tuesday. To the hospital." He stands chewing the inside of his cheek and Daryl doesn't need to ask why Jesus didn't tell him that his appointment was this week. He's still ashamed of himself and the way he acted during that fight.

Daryl nods and walks over to him, gently cupping his jaw with one hand. "If you ask me, I'll go with you."

Jesus nods. "I know." He doesn't ask and Daryl doesn't push.

The pizza arrives and they both settle on the couch to watch the movie, Jesus lounging against Daryl, stroking his fingers lightly up and down Daryl's arm. Daryl had forgotten how much he liked the movie, enjoying the dry humour and the amazing make-up effects. It isn't until the end credits start rolling that he realises Jesus is crying.

He sits up, startled. "Oh hey, what's wrong? What is it?"

Jesus shakes his head. "It's so fucking sad..." He wipes his eyes.

"What, the movie?"

"Yes! He gets shot and it's not fair!"

Daryl laughs lightly and kisses the top of Jesus's head. "God, we'd better not watch the 1986 version of The Fly if this is how you get over tragic 80s horror films."

They play Mario Kart for a while, when Jesus announces that if he wins the next race, they're going to go back to bed and do more dirty things.

"Aren't you tired? How could you possibly be horny again?" Daryl cries out and veers off of the track as Jesus leans over and rubs his crotch.

"Yeah, that's a semi if ever I felt one..." Jesus bites his lip with a smile.

They don't bother finishing the race.

 

***

 

Jesus starts to flat his first pages for issue 10 of Winter Soldier on Monday morning, fretting over the first page, then finally getting into it. He's also been reading up on lettering and general typography, squeezing in as many InDesign and YouTube tutorials as he can. Daryl can't help but be stupidly proud of Jesus's dedication.

"Do you really think I might be able to do this for a living?" Jesus had asked on one of his bad days, growling in frustration whenever he made any mistakes.

"Considering you've only been doing this for a few months and how good you've become, I'd say yes. Maybe not for a while but yes."

"You're my boyfriend - you have to say stuff like that..." Jesus had given him a sideways glance.

"I'd say the Spencere if you were just some hot stranger who'd walked in off the street and showed me what he could do."

As Monday draws on, Jesus gets quieter, singing along to Daryl's music less, only speaking when Daryl asks him anything and he knows that Jesus is thinking about his trip to Boston tomorrow. Daryl gets up from his desk at 5:40pm and starts to make homemade burgers for dinner.

He's just shoving a baking tray of fries into the oven when he feels Jesus's arms snake around his waist and he starts.

"Holy shit, don't sneak up on me like that," Daryl twists around and puts his arms around Jesus's neck. "I could have been holding a knife or something."

Jesus rests his head on Daryl's shoulder. "I'm scared. About tomorrow."

"I know you are," Daryl says quietly. "My offer still stands."

He feels Jesus shake his head. "Okay, I won't ask again. Can I at least come with you to the station?"

Jesus nods. "I have to leave at four-thirty in the morning."

"I'll be there."

 

***

 

It's a bleak morning, still dark and damp from a light rain that fell during the night. Daryl wishes it wasn't so far to Boston; he won't see Jesus until late tonight and knows he'll be thinking about him the entire day. Jesus walks with his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets.

When they get to the station, Jesus asks Daryl not to come in. Daryl swallows back the hurt and nods, telling himself it's not personal. He has to do this for Jesus.

"I've got something for you," Jesus says, his brow creasing in that way it does when he's nervous. He pulls one of his therapy journals out of his bag and hands it to Daryl. "Promise me you won't read it until you get home." Daryl takes it and nods. He notices now that Jesus refers to his apartment as home, his own place is just "downstairs". He holds Jesus tight.

"Please let me know when you get there." He kisses him. "I'll see you tonight."

Jesus nods. "I love you."

Daryl gives him a lopsided grin. "Love you too."

He watches as Jesus walks into the station, looking back once and giving Daryl a small wave.

 

***

 

Daryl climbs back into bed when he gets home, feeling like he should attempt to get some more sleep before working otherwise he'll burn out by early afternoon. He looks at Jesus's journal, slightly anxious about opening it but Jesus had given it to him, wanting him to read it. He's pretty sure this is what Jesus has been writing for the last couple of weeks. He flips it open to the first page and reads the first line.

"When I left for Afghanistan in November 2012, my name was Paul Buchanan Rovia and I was 24 years old. I left that man behind and came back as someone else, two halves of a person that will never be whole again."

Daryl's breath catches. He swallows and flips through the journal, page after page of Jesus's entire experience in Afghanistan and afterwards, poured out on paper for Daryl to read. He feels a sob rise in his throat and holds it back. He knows how hard it is for Jesus to tell him anything difficult about his past, how he spends days working up to it and how writing this, letting it all out for Daryl to finally know, must have been such a huge decision for him to make.

He takes a few shaky breaths and starts to read. The journal is raw and honest, surprisingly eloquent and absolutely heartbreaking. Daryl has to stop several times, overwhelmed. He had no idea. When he finishes he finally lets the tears come full force, crying for the Jesus he'll never know that was left behind in Afghanistan.

 

***

 

Daryl sits at his desk all day, trying to work but unable to stop thinking about Jesus and his journal. Jesus texts him at 11:30am to tell him that he's at the hospital. He doesn't ask if Daryl has read the journal yet.

He thinks hard about two things all day, chewing his nails and staring out of the window. He misses Jesus horribly the whole day, resisting the urge to text him every two minutes, feeling empty and alone. Jesus texts him at 5:24pm.

JESUS: Done at the hospital. So tired. Will let you know when I'm back in NY. Miss you

DARYL: Love you so much. Can't wait to see you

Daryl makes himself some macaroni and cheese, too drained to make anything else. He starts to re-watch The West Wing from Season 1, each episode an hour off of the clock and closer to Jesus coming home.

At 10:45pm, Jesus finally texts.

JESUS: In a cab, won't be long

Daryl grabs his blue hoodie, flinging it on along with his sneakers and heads out of his apartment. He sits on the front steps of the building waiting, not caring how cold it is and never thinking that he could miss Jesus so much in one day. He looks up, wishing that the light pollution wasn't so bad and he could see the stars. He tried going on the roof once just to see if it made any difference but it didn't.

A cab finally crawls down the street and Daryl stands up. Jesus steps out and thanks the driver. He looks exhausted but smiles up at Daryl like he hasn't seen him in a week. The force of his hug almost sends Daryl stumbling back and he laughs softly.

"You'd laugh at me if I told you how much I've missed you today."

Jesus kisses him hard. "Likewise."

They head back into the building. "How was it?" Daryl asks.

Jesus shakes his head. "Like I expected it to be. I just want to go to bed." He looks at Daryl. "It was hard without you. Maybe...maybe next time I'll be able to ask you to come."

Daryl puts his arm around Jesus's waist as they walk upstairs. "Whenever you're ready."

Jesus won't say anything more about the hospital and he takes several painkillers after he brushes his teeth. They get into bed, lying together in the dark and talking softly.

They fall silent for a while and Daryl hopes that Jesus isn't asleep. "Jesus?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I read your journal."

It's a few minutes before Jesus speaks again. "And?"

Daryl goes to speak but bursts into tears instead. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, I had no idea...I'm so sorry..."

Jesus cradles Daryl's head as he sobs. "It's okay, Daryl. It's okay."

"No, no it's not. How could you go through all of that and still be...how can I ever be any help...you went through so much..."

Jesus kisses Daryl's hair. "Listen to me; I didn't write it to make you feel bad, or guilty, that's the last thing I wanted to do and I didn't want to upset you...when we had that fight and I told you that you could never understand...I felt so...I really WANTED you to understand...and I just couldn't talk about it. I can't even talk about everything with Carol. But I wanted you to be the one to know everything because you've always understood me, since the day we met. You've just...always known the right thing to say to make me feel better and you've never been angry or frustrated with me when I couldn't talk to you about everything...I wanted you to know what happened and exactly how I felt, during and after. So it was easier to write it all down."

Daryl clutches at Jesus's arm. "I'm so sorry about everything that happened to you...I wish I could take it all away and make you not hurt anymore..."

"I know," Jesus kisses Daryl's head again. "But...it took the worst thing to ever happen to me to get me to the best thing that ever happened to me."

Daryl shakes his head and cries harder. He can feel Jesus smile against him.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

Daryl chokes out a laugh. "Yes." He wipes his eyes. "Thank you for the journal. I just...it was really beautiful too. Your writing..."

"My writing's not too great..."

"No, it's so good, Jesus. You have no idea."

Jesus strokes Daryl's hair in the dark and brushes the tears from his cheeks. "I want you to be able to ask me stuff...about what happened, more than I've already told you... and I want to be able to answer. I think it's still going to take a long time. But at least the journal can help."

Daryl kisses Jesus softly. "Thank you."

 

***

 

In the morning when they're both working, Daryl approaches Jesus with the first of the two things he spent most of the previous day thinking about. He puts down his pencil and looks up at Jesus, humming softly to himself as he flats Daryl's completed issue 10 pages.

"Jesus, can I talk to you about something?"

Jesus doesn't look up from his laptop. "Sure."

"It's kind of important."

Jesus looks up, a crease of worry between his eyes.

"It's okay," Daryl says quickly. "It's...art related. Kind of." He suddenly feels nervous. "Shit, now I'm worried about offending you or something..."

Jesus gives him a little grin. "Okay, kind of intrigued now."

Daryl takes a breath. "Your journal. I think it's really important, because it's an account of what happened to you and how you started to get through it afterwards. But it's also...I think people with PTSD could really relate to it, with whatever's happened to them in their own lives because it's not just about you and Tim. I mean, the way you've written about it...it's just...really incredible."

Jesus looks down. "You really think it's that good?"

"Yes. I'm not just saying that. I was thinking...how would you feel about self-publishing it?"

Jesus looks up and Daryl is worried that the idea is going to go veer towards the bad side of the scenario he had worked up in his head. "You mean like as a book?"

Daryl suddenly panics. "Yeah, kind of. I'm...I don't want you to think I'm trivialising it and what happened to you..."

"Daryl, you could never make me think that." He looks at Daryl with such love in those grey-blue eyes that Daryl feels more relief than he thought he would. "Would it work? As a book, I mean."

"Well, I've been thinking; it could work really well as mainly prose with maybe some key illustrations. Make it more abstract, I guess."

Jesus rests his head on his hands. "Would you illustrate it?"

"If you'd let me."

Jesus is quiet for a long time. "It would mean people knowing. About what happened to me."

Daryl nods.

"Going to the VA has been hard. So much harder than I thought it would be. Listening to other people talk and having to talk to them about my...experiences. But it's kind of helped. It's still hard but I find that I want to talk more now, that holding it all in just makes me feel like...like I'm being slowly poisoned."

Daryl thinks of Abraham Ford, alone in his life and already riddled with his own poison.

Jesus scratches his neck. "Can I talk to Carol about it?"

"Of course. Jesus, it was just something I thought might be - "

Jesus gets up and walks around to Daryl's desk. He pulls Daryl up and holds him. "I think...I think I want to do it. I think I need to do it."

"I want to help. I want to be able to do something. I can never put the two halves of you back together as much as I want to but..."

Jesus's breath hitches. "You've done so much more than that."

Daryl considers talking about the other thing he was thinking about yesterday, but decides to leave it until the time feels right.

 

***

 

Carol is more than encouraging to the idea of Jesus self-publishing his journal. He's only shown it to Daryl, hesitant to show her when it's in such a raw state but she offers to proof read it if he decides to go ahead with self-publishing it. When he gets back to Daryl's apartment later that morning, he tells him they should do it. Daryl beams and shows him some ideas he'd already started to sketch. Just in case Jesus had said yes.

"I think we should keep it to the standard comic book format but we can look into getting it printed on some really nice heavy gsm paper with a bit of texture. It'll cost us more but I think it'll be worth it."

Jesus looks at some of the page layout ideas, overwhelmed by how much work Daryl has already put in. "These are really incredible. You...you've drawn me as me."

Daryl puts a hand on Jesus's back. "Well, yeah. It's all you. The whole thing."

Jesus smiles. "Um, what about colour?"

Daryl shows him another sketch. "I think maybe black and white with one colour that we can use as a central emphasis. Maybe run it throughout, have it connect the images with some of the text..."

"Red," Jesus says, chewing his lip.

Daryl rubs his back. "Okay."

They talk some more and decide to set aside a couple of hours together every day to work on the book. Daryl tentatively suggests that they could aim to have it finished by the Pasadena convention, which is far enough away to get the work done, and sell a limited number of copies. Jesus lets out a shaky breath and agrees. They decide not to tell anyone else about the book for now.

"I can't think of a title," Jesus says.

"It'll come," Daryl replies.

 

***

 

The days soon fall into a rhythm of work and being together, of video games and movies and sex. The book is coming together, Jesus working hard on getting the typography and lettering just right, Daryl's illustrations fitting around Jesus's words and it finally starts to form a coherent thing.

They have a gaming night with Dan and Vic which ends up being hilarious, Vic being so good at Mario Kart that the others eventually ban him from playing so one of them might have a chance at winning. Dan brings over his N64 and they play Goldeneye until Daryl begs off, finally fed up of always being the first one to die. Daryl shows Dan his portfolio and the two of them spend the rest of the evening huddled over Daryl's desk talking about original pages and favourite comic artists. Jesus and Vic watch Bob's Burgers and drink too much beer.

Jesus still has bad days but then so does Daryl and they work through them together. There hasn't been a panic attack for either of them for a long while, each seeming to ground the other. They talk about taking a trip to New England when their deadlines ease off and Daryl feels happy and excited, more than he ever thought possible. He gets away a lot for comic cons, but this is different. He's never been away with anyone special before. Jesus decides that they should go hiking on the trip and starts to research mountain trails.

They spend a lot of time in bed, talking, reading, loving each other. It doesn't take much for one of them to touch the other and find themselves suddenly naked, breathing hard together and forgetting what they had been doing before.

One day, after distracting each other so much that they couldn't work and ended up writing off the day to have sex, they lie together on Daryl's bed, sweaty and sleepy, the afternoon sun moving across the wall. Jesus whispers filthy things into Daryl's ear with a smile, even though both of them couldn't possibly do anything more. Daryl lets him, laughing softly and running his hand lightly over Jesus's collarbone. They're both content, so at ease with each other now Daryl finds it hard to think of the times that were filled with awkward glances and longings for intimacies that he thought would never be his. He finally feels like this is the right time to ask Jesus the other thing that has been burning through him since the day Jesus gave him his journal.

He turns and meets his eyes, seeing the faint glimmer of hope in Jesus's face that his dirty talk has maybe swayed Daryl into another round.

"Move in with me," Daryl says softly.

Jesus blinks and looks surprised, his eyes unsure, searching Daryl's. "What?"

Daryl props himself up on one elbow. "Move in with me. I mean, you practically live here anyway. You don't have much stuff and you'd save on rent and you would...live with me." He looks at Jesus hopefully.

"You...mean it?"

Daryl smiles down at him. "Of course I mean it. Will you?"

Jesus grabs the back of Daryl's neck and kisses him, deep and almost desperate, pulling Daryl down onto him. They finally break away, both of them slightly breathless.

"Is that a yes?" Daryl asks with a smile.

Jesus pulls on Daryl's hair. "Yes it's a fucking yes!"

They both laugh and Daryl kisses Jesus again, moving from his mouth along his jaw and down his neck, happier than he's ever been.

"Uh, where are you going?" Jesus asks with a smirk as Daryl continues to kiss and lick his way down his body, enjoying the small gasps that Jesus makes at the light touches. He stops at Jesus's hip and looks up innocently.

"You know, I forget..."

Jesus makes a noise.

Daryl smiles up at him and runs his hands down Jesus's thighs. "Oh, wait. I remember now..."

It's a few hours later after having eaten too much pizza, sat in their underwear on the couch watching Zombieland, that they decide on a date to have Jesus move in.

 

***

 

Michonne shrieks so loudly when Daryl tells her that he holds his phone away from his ear, wincing. Jesus looks up with an amused smile.

"I guess she's pleased for us."

It's later that afternoon when Daryl, working on the front cover for Jesus's book in Photoshop, thinks of a title. The cover is a drawing of Jesus in his army fatigues, his left arm a dotted red line from the shoulder down. The red line is a central theme throughout the book and Daryl is proud of how the whole thing has come together. The book is something that is entirely theirs, his and Jesus's.

"I think I have a title for the book," Daryl says quietly and Jesus looks up.

"Yeah?"

Daryl nods and writes it down on a scrap of paper, holding it up for Jesus to see. Missing Peace.

Jesus makes a pleased little noise. "That's...that's perfect."

 

***

 

Jesus moves into Daryl's place a week later, his lease not all that hard to break and their landlord more accommodating than they would have thought. Jesus guts his apartment, throwing away anything he hasn't laid eyes on since he moved in and arranging for everything else, mostly kitchen stuff and a few stray pieces of furniture, to go to Goodwill. It only takes a few trips up to Daryl's between them to get Jesus moved in. He stares sadly at the pile of boxes and framed pictures stacked together, his canvas print of Nighthawks resting against the couch.

"I can't believe this is all I have," he mutters.

Daryl rests his head on Jesus's shoulder. "You've got more than you think," he says quietly and Jesus nods, trying not to measure his life in the few things heaped before him, but in the other things he's gained: Purpose, confidence, happiness. All because of a lonely blond haired boy who took a chance on him one day, reaching out in his own solitude.

 

***

 

Jesus puts his canvas of Nighthawks in the bedroom. Daryl convinces him to put the picture of Tim up too. The rest of Jesus's things eventually merge with Daryl's and then all of a sudden, they're living together. They work together and play together, Daryl more inclined to dance with Jesus now, still self-conscious and embarrassed but pulled in by Jesus's strange magnetism that has held him since that first day.

One evening there's a power cut throughout the whole block and Jesus yowls in frustration because he hasn't saved his progress on BioShock Infinite for two hours. Daryl kicks him in the dark and tells him it's own fault which sparks a play fight. Somewhere between Daryl getting Jesus into a headlock and Jesus trying to pull Daryl's socks off to get to his feet, they end up naked on the couch, Jesus moving over Daryl, mouth pressed into his neck, gasping. Daryl wraps his legs around Jesus and moves with him in the dark, both unable to say anything more than the other's name.

That isn't to say that things are perfect by any means. They squabble over little things but eventually work it out, always taking longer than it should, both of them too stubborn for their own good. They have a big fight a couple of weeks after Jesus moves in, mainly about Jesus's therapy - he wants to drop his sessions to one a week and Daryl thinks it's a bad idea - and Jesus ends up storming out of the apartment, only to storm back in a minute later when he remembers that he doesn't live downstairs anymore. He slams the bedroom door for emphasis. When Daryl ventures in a few hours later, they're both calm enough to talk about it.

Jesus comes back from a VA meeting one evening, despondent.

"What's wrong?" Daryl asks, concerned.

"Abraham won't be going to any more meetings," Jesus answers, turning one of Daryl's sketchbooks left on the coffee table over and over in his hands.

"Why not?"

Jesus shrugs. "He didn't say. He just said that today's was his last and he hopes that I'll still go."

Daryl knows that Jesus has started to talk more to some of the people at the meetings and that he's been for a beer with a guy called Aaron. He'll be okay without Abraham there but he knows that as little as Abraham ever says, Jesus likes him. Daryl himself has said nothing more to him after that day in the hallway, when Abraham asked after Jesus.

"You'll be okay," Daryl says and takes Jesus's hand.

Jesus rubs his thumb against Daryl's. "I know I will, but what about him?"

A couple of years later, they'll both remember that evening as they watch, shocked and saddened, as the paramedics take Abraham out of the building covered on a gurney, neither of them having seen or spoken to him for a long time. It will hit Daryl hard and he'll remember how he tried to reach out to Abraham as Abraham had done for Jesus, if only to offer an awkward beer. But even back then, Abraham's own demons had taken too firm a hold on him and there was no going back. Jesus and Daryl will sit in silence, both cried out and finally decide together to look for another apartment.

 

***

Jesus finally works up the courage to show Daryl his arm without the prosthetic. Jesus is in bed, reading the latest Winter Soldier with his character's new arc - Spencer was right, it gets very dark but in a good way - and he puts the comic down. Daryl is quietly sketching next to him.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

Jesus starts to undo the straps that act as a brace from under his arm. Daryl looks up, surprised and puts down his sketchbook.

"Jesus, are you - "

Jesus nods. "I'm sure."

Daryl thought he would be prepared for seeing Jesus without his prosthetic but it still shocks him. He's so used to seeing Jesus with two arms, the asymmetry throws him off. He stares sadly at Jesus's arm, ending a couple of inches below his shoulder.

He looks up, Jesus's face scared and questioning.

Daryl leans over and holds him. "Thank you," he whispers into Jesus's shoulder.

Jesus hugs Daryl with his right arm and sighs heavily into him.

 

***

 

Missing Peace finally gets finished two weeks before the Pasadena Comic Con. Jesus prints out a copy for Carol to proof read. He won't show Daryl the inside front cover, telling him he wants to wait until it's printed to show him. Carol reads it and hugs Jesus hard.

"Okay, so Glenn is going to pick us all up from LAX on the Thursday. I couldn't even convince him to let us take a shuttle," Michonne says one morning on Skype. Glenn has insisted that they all stay with him for the con. Daryl and Jesus have their flight booked, getting into L.A two hours before Michonne and Rick do. They still haven't told the others about the book, wanting it to be a surprise.

"We'll have to get him something as a thank you; it's really generous of him to put us all up," Daryl says and Jesus nods.

Michonne agrees and they all talk excitedly about the con.

"You know, it's actually going to be really boring now that the two of you are actually together. That whole drama of waiting for the both of you to stop being oblivious morons was the highlight of our year."

 

***

 

The book arrives from the printer two days later, Jesus bursting excitedly through the door after signing for them downstairs. He puts the box down and steps back.

"I'm almost too nervous to look," he says looking up at Daryl.

"But you've seen the proof! You know what they look like, idiot."

"I know but...we're going to be giving these to people." Jesus rubs his left arm. He finally bends down and opens the box, taking out a copy and walking over to Daryl.

"Do I finally get to see the inside cover?" Daryl asks with a little smile.

Jesus nods and hands the book to him. Daryl opens it.

Missing Peace

Written by Paul Buchanan Rovia

Illustrated by Daryln Dixon

For Daryl, who saved my life.

And for Michonne, Rick and Glenn, who all helped too, more than they could ever know.

Daryl grabs Jesus and holds him, worried that if he tries to speak, he'll cry like an idiot instead.

Jesus smiles. "So you like it?"

Daryl nods and kisses Jesus on the temple. "I love it. I love you."

Jesus kisses Daryl softly on the lips. "You're something else, Daryln Dixon."

 

***

 

They get into L.A on Thursday at 11am and get coffee, both excited as hell to see Michonne and Rick, checking the arrivals board every five minutes to make sure their flight is still on time. Jesus jumps up when he sees them, Rick shouting "My boys!" from the other side of the terminal and getting a lot of looks.

Jesus starts to dance his way over to them and Daryl groans in embarrassment as Michonne and Rick start to dance too, dragging their bags with them and looking like a couple of luMichonneics. Rick finally drops his stuff and grabs Jesus in a hug, sliding one hand down to his ass and squeezing gently.

"I missed you so much," he says in a loud exaggerated whisper and Jesus crumples into hysterical laughter. Michonne makes a disapproving noise.

"Hey, get your hands off of him. That's MY ass," Daryl says and Rick lets go of Jesus and grabs Daryl in a tight hug, grabbing his ass too as Daryl laughs and struggles.

"Don't worry, I've missed yours too."

Michonne elbows Rick out of the way and pulls Daryl and Jesus into a hug, planting kisses on them both. "God, you both look great. I'm so happy to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Michonne. You look awesome." Daryl kisses her cheek.

"Well, yeah. I know. I always look awesome."

They all head over to the exit, waiting for Glenn who pulls up a few minutes later. They all ambush him as he gets out of the car, his laughter muffled in a five-way bear-hug. They manage to squeeze most of everything into the trunk, Rick calling shotgun and Michonne, Daryl and Jesus squeezing into the back seat, already giggling madly.

"Maggie is sad that she won't get to meet you guys but she's out of town at some big conference this weekend and couldn't get out of it. She made you all goody bags though." Glenn pulls onto the freeway and they all start complaining about the heat.

"Welcome to California!" Glenn cries and turns the air-con up full blast.

They get to Glenn's place just over an hour later; he lives just outside of Pasadena in a scarily nice neighbourhood.

"Holy fuck," Rick exclaims as Glenn pulls into his driveway. "You never told us you lived in the fucking Playboy mansion!"

"It's not that big," Glenn laughs.

Michonne's eyes are wide as she stares at Glenn's house. "Glenn, this is amazing. How are you working in comics and able to afford this?!"

Glenn gives them a little smile. "It's all Maggie."

Daryl gives him a look. "What the hell does she do?"

"She's a neurosurgeon," Glenn says and they all start talking at the Spencere time. He laughs and gets out of the car.

"How did we never know this?" Michonne says, shielding her eyes as she looks up at the big two-story house. "That's a pretty significant thing to leave out of a conversation."

Glenn starts to unload the trunk as Daryl and Rick babble about how the double garage is as big as their living rooms and Jesus points excitedly to a lizard scrabbling up the trunk of the palm tree next to the house.

"Like I'm just going to come out and say "Oh yeah, I'm living with a brain surgeon!" It never crossed my mind."

They all make more noise when they see the inside of the house and Rick drops to the floor and rolls around. "I'm sorry Michonne, but I'm leaving you for Glenn. I don't care what price I have to pay - I live here now."

Michonne kicks him and then shrugs. "You know what, I don't blame you."

They pile their con stuff next to the front door and Glenn takes them all upstairs.

"Okay, Michonne and Rick, you're in this room. You have an en-suite bathroom." Michonne squeals when she sees the room and Rick grabs Glenn and holds him by the shoulders.

"You know how much I've always respected you as a person right?"

Glenn laughs and twists away, walking down the hall. "Daryl and Jesus, you're in this room. Sorry there's no en-suite but that bathroom is pretty much all yours." He points to a big bathroom on the other side of the hall.

Jesus gives him a look. "How disappointing. Come on, Daryl. We're leaving."

Daryl laughs and shakes his head. "Glenn, this is amazing. Thank you so much."

"Yeah, this is really too much," Michonne says, her hands on her hips.

"Guys, you don't know how excited I am to have you here. It's no big deal."

"OH MY GOD THERE'S A FUCKING POOL," Rick shouts from the bedroom.

 

***

 

Glenn makes them all dinner later, after they've all scoured every inch of his house, Rick threatening to push everyone into the pool. They have burritos, tacos, nachos and a million other things, Glenn handing them all beer as they sit and eat in his huge dining room, an 80s compilation blaring from his iPod dock.

Jesus shouts with glee as Living On The Ceiling by Blancmange starts to play. He jumps up and starts to dance, the other all clapping and cheering in surprise.

"Holy crap, look at him go!" Rick cries.

Glenn laughs. "Wow, you never told us he was this good."

Jesus gives a shy little laugh and grabs Daryl by the hand. "Come on, handsome."

Daryl protests and turns red but eventually gives in to everyone else shouting at him to get up and fucking dance. He manages to match some of Jesus's moves, much to the delight of everyone else and finally sits back down with a flushed smile.

"Happy? Now leave me alone!" Jesus kisses him on the cheek.

Rick decides to try and do some break dancing to Grandmaster Flash, sending everyone into loud hysterical laughter, Michonne sliding off of her chair onto the floor when he attempts to caterpillar across the room.

They all eventually head into the living room, drunk on laughter more than the beer. Michonne and Rick flop down on the couch while Glenn sits on the floor. Daryl and Jesus sit together on a huge leather bean bag, laughing as they shift around and try to roll each other off.

"You two are so damn cute," Glenn says with a grin.

They all start to talk about the con and Daryl puts his arm around Jesus and gives him a smile.

"Shall I get the books?" Jesus asks nervously.

Daryl looks over at the others, all talking easily.

"Yeah, I think it's a good time."

Jesus gets up and excuses himself and Michonne gives Daryl a happy little smile.

Daryl sits up when Jesus comes back, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Um, can me and Daryl talk to you guys about something?" he asks.

"Is Daryl pregnant?" Rick says and they all laugh.

"Thanks Rick," Daryl says. "This is kind of a big thing."

Rick suddenly sits bolt upright, completely serious. "Oh my god, you're getting married."

Jesus laughs and Daryl gives him an annoyed groan. "No, we're not getting married."

Michonne slaps Rick around the back of the head. "Will you shut the fuck up and let them speak?"

Rick sits back rubbing his head and Jesus sits down next to Daryl. Daryl puts his arm around Jesus's waist.

"I don't know how much you know - I mean, I know that Daryl has mentioned to you guys that I lost my arm in Afghanistan."

Michonne nods and says softly, "We never wanted to make a thing about it unless you spoke to us..."

Jesus shakes his head. "No, I'm glad you didn't...I don't think I could have talked to you guys about it but I wanted to say thanks for never making it an issue in New York. It meant a lot to me that you were so willing to make me your friend because of Daryl."

They all make happy noises and Rick gives Jesus a big smile.

"You're a great guy; it's not hard to want to be your friend," he says and Jesus looks down. Daryl pulls him in.

"Um, me and Daryl have been working on a book. About...about how I lost my arm and what happened to me."

Michonne sits forward. "You're kidding. You guys kept that quiet."

Jesus gives a small laugh. "Yeah, I kind of wanted to not say anything until it was done. I wanted you to all to be able to read it when it was finished." He gets up unsteadily and hands them all a copy.

"Oh my god, this is gorgeous," Glenn says as he flips through it. He sees the inside front cover and the inscriptions and motions to the others, suddenly quiet.

Rick looks slightly overwhelmed as he reads it and Michonne looks up at them both with a pained expression.

"Jesus, this is...can we read it now? Like right now?"

Jesus nods. "Yeah, I was hoping you would. If that's okay."

They all start to read and Jesus rubs his palms on his jeans, hands shaking. He turns to Daryl.

"I'm going to wait outside." He heads off to the back door.

Michonne looks up at Daryl. "Daryl, this is incredible."

Daryl stands up. "I'm going to go outside too. Thanks, you guys."

He finds Jesus sat on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool. He smiles as Daryl sits next to him and looks up at the darkening sky. "It's so warm here."

"Yeah, it's nice."

"What if they hate it?" Jesus whispers.

Daryl puts his arms around Jesus. "They won't."

Daryl swings his legs up and shuffles down the lounge chair, pulling on Jesus's sleeve. They snuggle together and watch the stars come out.

It's over an hour later when they hear the back door open and they both sit up. Rick comes out of the house, red-eyed, and Glenn follows, his hands in his pockets.

Jesus stands up and goes to say something but Rick just pulls him into a hug, not saying a word. Jesus sags against him slightly and Daryl hears a little sob escape him. Rick looks up at Daryl and just gives him a little nod. Daryl turns away, fighting to hold back his own tears. Rick holds Jesus for a few minutes and then pulls away, one hand on Jesus's shoulder as he wipes his eyes.

Glenn steps over to Jesus and gives him a hug too. "Jesus, that was...it's fucking amazing."

Jesus tucks his hands under his armpits and nods down at the patio. "Thank you," he says, voice choked with emotion.

Daryl steps over to them. "Where's Michonne?"

Rick swallows. "She went to the bathroom. She's...she's a bit of a mess."

Jesus makes a desperate noise and Rick puts an arm around his shoulder. "No, it's okay. It just hit her, that's all. She cares about the both of you a lot."

Glenn lets out a shuddery breath. "We all do."

Jesus moves over to Daryl and cries into his shoulder, everything becoming too much for him. Daryl rocks him and whispers softly. Rick and Glenn sit down on a lounge chair together and watch the pool.

Michonne comes out of the house ten minutes later, eyes as red as Rick's and walks over to Daryl and Jesus. She hugs them both hard. When she pulls away, she takes Jesus's left hand.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she says softly, her voice raw. Jesus nods and she leads him away from the pool. Daryl watches as she speaks quietly to Jesus, bringing both hands to his face. He nods several times and then they hug. Whatever is said stays between the two of them and Daryl never asks.

 

***

 

That night, when everyone has gone to bed, Jesus worries that he's killed the mood for the weekend.

"You haven't. They're all moved that you would want to share that with them. I said before, they're your friends now too."

"I never thought they'd react the way they did. They really...they really cared..." Jesus chokes up again.

"Of course they care. They think a lot of you," Daryl kisses Jesus's hand.

Jesus takes a shaky breath. "This was a good idea. The book, I mean. I feel like it's starting to chip away at the bad parts of me that are still there. I never would have thought to do it."

Daryl smiles against him. "I have some good ideas. But then it's easy having you to inspire me."

Jesus chuffs a little laugh. "You're such a sap."

He kisses Daryl and sleeps better than he has done for a long time.

 

***

 

The next morning is bright and warm, the sky a single solid block of blue, bluer than Daryl has ever seen it. Glenn drives them all to the con, ready for set up. They all pitch in with the money for the car parking at the convention centre and then throw extra money at Glenn for gas, all jumping out of the car quickly before he can throw it back at them . They all huff their con bags out to the front of the convention centre, things already getting busy. Cosplayers stand for photos in big groups and they all watch a huge glut of Final Fantasy characters pose in fight scenes for a while. Michonne, Rick and Glenn start to head towards the main entrance but Jesus holds Daryl back.

"Just wait a second," he says and Daryl shouts to Michonne.

She turns around. "What's up?"

"We'll just be a minute," Jesus calls to her. "We'll meet you in there."

Michonne gives them both a little smirk and hurries to catch up with Rick and Glenn.

Jesus puts down the bags he's holding and Daryl lowers his.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Jesus puts his arms around Daryl's neck. "You know, I don't care how much money we make on the book. I don't even care if nobody likes it. It's ours. I'm prouder of that than I am out of anything else I've ever done."

Daryl smiles. "Me too. It feels...it feels really good."

"Maybe you can give one to Negan. See what he thinks," Jesus says with a sly grin.

Daryl laughs. "You know what, screw it. I will. Not that he'll ever admit it if he thinks it's good..."

Jesus kisses Daryl softly and Daryl kisses him back, neither of them caring that they're in the middle of a bunch of people dressed as video game characters and completely getting in the way.

Jesus nuzzles his cheek against Daryl's. "I love you, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl kisses Jesus's eyebrow. "I love you, Jesus Rovia."

They pick up their bags and head into the convention centre to catch up with the others.

 


End file.
